


Rutherford the Strong

by Thaliel (Alodia)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Cullen as Prince, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Slow Burn, now including art!! :D, soon to be king, to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:20:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3541034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alodia/pseuds/Thaliel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As king and sovereign of Aravalle, Stanton Olivie Carlisle Rutherford has placed all of his hopes and dreams within his son, Cullen. He needs his son not only to ascend to the throne and lead their people, but also to marry an appropriate woman who can rule at his side. It is the king's hope that his son makes a quick match, preferably before he is crowned as king in one week's time. </p><p>Cullen is resistant to the idea on the grounds that he should be concentrating on being king and prince, not on romance. Stanton, however, knows his son and understands that having someone at your side is worth more than all the gold in Tevinter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just keep seem to be having ideas! This is based around the whole idea that it's possible the previous tenants of Skyhold were in fact the royal family of some small long-forgotten country which occupied the strong hold. And of course, I couldn't leave out my favorite Commander and Lavellan. Cullen is crown prince of said country, Aravalle, set to become king. 
> 
> At this point in Theda's history, I like to imagine that elves still hold some stature, vallaslin is not used to mark coming of age, and that there are countries ruled by both elves and humans. Orlais and Ferelden still exists, although Orlais is smaller, not yet engaging in expansion, and Ferelden is little more than a fledgling country. Imagine a time shortly after the Imperium starts losing power but before Orlais gains it. It's an in between time period where no one country has primary control over Thedas. 
> 
> Please leave a comment if you have any questions about anything! This does not necessarily fall 100% within canon, but I promise to do my best to follow it as much as I can!

Throwing light across the snow banks, the castle stood tall amongst the mountain tops, with several towers reaching up into the darkness. There were caravan after caravan of people crossing the large bridge in front of the complex, their progress slow and more for show than anything else. Each carriage hung a lantern made from colorful glass from their fronts, creating a slow moving rainbow as they went.

Each carriage held men and women well dressed in finery, with jewels glittering on almost every finger and at all of the women’s necks. Yards and yards of fabric made each carriage feel much fuller than they actually were, but the many nobles in attendance paid no mind to the stuffy air or to shark stays pushing into their sides.

A week before the prince would be crowned king, Skyhold was abuzz with activity nobles from all across Thedas gathered to celebrate the crowning of Cullen Stanton Gabriel Rutherford in one week’s time. The crown prince would ascend to the throne in light of his father’s advanced age after a week’s worth of balls, celebrations and ceremonies.

The king had the hall filled with music and there was a servant dedicated just to managing the prince’s dance card. It was well known the king wanted his son to marry, and soon and as a result the hall was flooded with every important and eligible woman Thedas had to offer. As a result, there was a waiting list 4 days long to dance with the prince.

Cullen stood in the back corner of the main hall, pulling at his collar as the next woman on his card approached him.

“Your Royal Highness,” she said, sweeping into a low curtsey.

Cullen pulled a strained smile, “Lady Bryland, may I have this dance?”

She smiled bright, her eyes sharp and calculating, “I would be delighted.”

He offered his hand and they swept onto the floor, engaging in a waltz that had her skirts spinning in a whirl of deep blue with glimmers of silver.

Many pairs of eyes followed them, although there were a few which paid no mind to the consorting of the royal family. One room over, a casino was set up to entertain those who didn’t wish to dance the night away.

The foremost table was occupied by a laughing Tevinter Magister, a Qunari who was throwing around coin frivolously, and an elf who was smiling quietly at her hand.

Elena Lavellan looked over her cards and re-arranged them again, alternating between red-black-red-black and black-black-red-red. The Qunari watched her actions carefully, sussing out whether or not the movement was simply habit or if the motions were her tell. His eyes were sharp as he did so, speaking to years of pratice and training. 

"Bluff," he announced confidently, "The Boss has quite the hand. I fold."

Elena pouted, "Who says? Maybe my hand is horrible."

 "I've lost enough coin to you to know better," he said, laughing. 

The tanned Tevinter next to him smiled, "I think I'll take my chances with the elf. Raise you ten."

Lavellan giggled and threw more coin into the pot, "Whatever you want, Dorian." 

Dorian leaned back and crossed his arms, "Show me then."

She turned over her cards, smiling triumphantly. 

"Fasta vass," he swore. 

Bull clapped the pouting mage on the back, "Should have folded when you could."  

Dorian pouted, "How could I possibly know she had three aces?" 

Bull shrugged, "You need to learn to pay attention."

 "Yes Dorian," Elena joked, her voice in an imitation of Bull's, "Pay attention."

 "Next time," Dorian quipped, "Don't win."

"Now you know I can't promise that."

The small crowed gathered around their table chuckled, several of them murmuring how Lavellan could clear out the royal coffers with her skill with cards. 

Elena smiled politely and prepared to comment that she would gladly welcome the challenge, "Ser Dorian-"

A snide voice came from behind the spectators, "Perhaps the knife-ear would not mind a  _real_ challenge?" 

Bull bristled even as Elena turned calm eyes to the newcomer. He stood over the back of her chair and leered over her, staring down into the front of her dress. 

"I welcome any challenge," Elena said. 

The man smiled, pulling at the scar which bisected his eye and trailed down his left cheekbone. "I am Lord Evangella," he annouced, "And I shall beat you."

Elena settled back in her chair, sweeping her fall of blonde hair behind her shoulder, "Have a seat then, please."

He set himself in a chair on the opposite side of Dorian. He accepted his cards easily and sorted them quickly. Even to Bull's eyes he had no tell, his scar didn't pull, his eyes remained eerily flat, and he said nothing. Elena settled in, carefully eyeing the dealer's cards before sorting her own. Her only movement was to cross her legs. 

The Lord's eyes grew hungry when he placed his first bet, "Thirty," he called. 

Elena nodded, "Call." 

He sneered, "Confident?"

Elena remained silent. Bull, however, chuckled low as Dorian watched them down his nose. 

The dealer dealt them their new cards and took the discards, "Bets?"

Elena silently tossed in a few more coins. The lord smiled and called her bet. 

Elena looked at him then, carefully, attempting to assess if he was bluffing or not. He did not raise her bet, which means he either was trying to draw her out or he was confident in his cards. 

The dealer nodded, "Cards please."

The lord went first, "I believe you have been had."

He turned his hand to reveal a three of a kind. Elena did smile then and watched as the lord's face fell. She revealed a straight flush. 

"Well played milord," she said through her teeth, her smile just a little too wide.

The man stood, his fave suddenly contorting so his scar stood out against his pale skin marring what may have once been good looks, "You lying, cheating, minx."

"I beg your pardon?" Dorian asked, his voice incredulous, "The lady beat you fair and square." 

He snarled, "No one beats me, she cheated. I had an excellent hand, it's nearly impossible she bested me."

 Lavellan frowned, face taking on a more feral set, "I did not cheat, kind ser."

Bull stood, his large form towering over the lord, "I'm afraid I must inform you that the lady did not cheat. I watched, both of you." His eyes narrowed, "You, however, are another story."

The lord's mouth gaped, "You would accuse me of cheating?"

Bull nodded. 

"How dare you! A dirty Qunari, accusing me of such actions," he shouted.

Bull frowned and his face split into a fierce snarl, "Dirty? You gave something against Qunari?"

The lord stepped into Bull, "Yes, dirty, heathen Qunari have no place in the King's Court!"

Bull snarled, "You're walking a thin line, My Lord."

Elena turned into Bull and put her hands on his shoulders, pushing him back and already calling on small threads of magic. 

The lord opened his mouth again but was interrupted by a deep rich voice, "What, may I ask, is going on here?"

Elena turned and found she was suddenly face to face with Prince Cullen. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Elena took a step back immediately as her good breeding kicked in. Sweeping into a low curtsey she murmured, “Your Royal Highness.”

Cullen frowned down at her, then at Lord Evangella behind her. The good lord sputtered and hastily dropped into the lowest bow he could imagine, “P-Prince Cullen! How your presence graces—!”

Cullen shook his head and waved his hand for us to rise, “What is going on?”

Evangella at least had the presence of mind to blush, “This young elf here just cheated at a card game, Your Highness.”

Golden eyes sliced over to meet my own, carefully assessing, “Are these accusations true?”

Dorian stepped forward, one hand gesturing dramatically to Evangella, “This man is a liar. He is simply disgruntled he was bested by an elf. An elven _woman_ , at that.”

The lord’s cheeks went deeper with his outrage, “Certainly it is not that, Your Highness. She surely must have cheated to have achieved such a high hand.”

Elena snorted loudly and planted her hands on her hips, but kept her silence. The open court was hardly the place to make a grand statement against one of the human lords. They had a hard time accepting that there were entire countries run by the elves, and getting into an argument over cards was hardly the path to peace and understanding.

The prince frowned, his eyes moving back and forth between Dorian, Elena and the defeated lord, “I am inclined to ban you all from further gaming.”

Elena went to open her mouth but was silenced when he spoke again. “All of you are done for the night, and Lord Evangella,” he turned to the man who again bowed low, “Cease making such accusations simply because you lost.”

Dorian smiled, smug, “You are most kind, My Prince.”

Cullen sent an impassive look to the mage, only a hint of disapproval in his gaze before he moved on. The gathered crowd parted for him as he made his way around the room, leaving Elena, Dorian, and The Iron Bull in his wake.

“Well that was exciting,” Dorian remarked, his face watching the prince appreciatively as he moved through the crowd.

Elena frowned, her eyes not on the prince, but on the lord melting back into the crowd, his face angry. “I had better collect my winnings.”

Bull held out a purple purse, heavy with coin, “Did that for you, boss.”

The elf smiled, her ears perking up, “Thank you, Bull.”

Dorian turned to the large Qunari and leaned into him, “That’s my Bull, chivalrous to the end.”

Iron Bull chuckled low and slung an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close, “Now we both know that isn’t true.”

To his credit, Dorian only blushed a little.

“Why do you think the prince is in here?” Elena asked, “He’s normally dancing right now.”

Dorian shook his head, “How should I know? I’m just here to represent my family, not to get a dance.”

Bull leaned down and spoke into his ear, “Not even a dance with me?”

Dorian hit his arm, “Of course not, you big brute.”

Bull pouted for a moment before Dorian leaned into him and grabbed his hand, clearly joking.

Elena smiled slowly, “Perhaps I should dance with the prince in your stead.”

Dorian waved a hand, “Have at it! Goodness knows the waiting list is so long you’ll never actually meet the man.”

She chuckled, “Very true. My mother would throw a fit if I did not even attempt, however.”

Bull rolled his eyes, “Your mother.”

“She is quite the woman,” Dorian quipped, “She did not come with you?”

“Not this time, no,” Elena answered.

The relief was clear in her voice, Janelle Lavellan was a powerhouse of a woman, always maneuvering and looking to advance her family name. With generations of hard work and careful marriages the women in clan Lavellan had created powerful alliances and amassed large swaths of land for the clan, making them one of the most powerful clans in Elvhenan. Janelle was determined to create international ties of the royal variety. So she had sent her eligible and beautiful daughter to the coronation celebrations, instead of attending herself.

Elena was relieved to be away from her family’s holdings and at large. For too long the rolling hills of Elvhenan had been the only land she had known and even just on the journey here she had seen and learned more than she had through years of tutoring and schooling.

Aravalle was a beautiful country of varied landscape, purple mountains visible from nearly all corners of the country with rolling hills on one side of the range and beautiful planes on the other side. The king had worked hard with his people to foster a sense of pride about their land, so the grass was green everywhere and villages were bursting with flowers at every window and maroon and golden flags on nearly every building.

The entire country favored sweeping arches and colorful stucco walls with awnings providing shade wherever it could. It was a far cry from the pale colors the elves tended to favor for their homes. The first time they had entered the capital proper, Elena was struck with the sudden realization that she was coming out of a fog.

The Iron Bull smiled, “Escaped her this time?”

Elena nodded, this time smiling wide and laughing, “I am a free woman for the next week.”

“I will not let you get away with humiliating me tonight,” came a snide voice came from behind her, hissing.

Elena turned, “Excuse me?”

The lord from earlier was standing very close to her now, his chest almost touching hers.

Bull snarled and stepped away from Dorian, approaching the Elena’s side and pushing the man away. “You have no business being here.”

The man sniffed, “I have every business. She will _pay_ for what happened.”

Elena smiled, “I will pay? I thought we already established you will be the one paying.”

Several people standing close to them were looking over at the exchange now, their fans fluttering as they tittered.

“I will _not_ be made a loser,” the lord said, “I am a _powerful_ man I will have my vengeance. I will seek retribution for what has happened.”

Elena glanced around and then faked a yawn, “If you wish to duel me, then do so. Otherwise your idle threats bore me.”

Bull chuckled but kept his eyes on the lord, Dorian laughed in outright drawing more attention to the exchange. The murmuring in the room was louder now as the exchange grew more heated. Elena was not dressed to duel, and she did not have a staff with her, but she could make due with her hands. Her mother had long since learned Elena needed movement in her dresses so it was composed of voluminous panels of fabric which moved and parted to reveal legs wrapped in a stunning gold fabric with golden tinkling anklets on each foot. It was the only concession she made for her daughter, after they had spent ages arguing about her attire. Tonight, she had selected a deep green dress to go with her golden jewelry and her family’s most prized heirloom, an emerald cut to its name and surrounded by diamonds perched on a delicate finger.

“I am an Evangella,” he announced loudly, “We do _not_ duel. We settle our grievances in private.”

Elena shrugged, “We both know I would win in a duel, so I suppose that is to be expected.”

The crowd chuckled enough to be heard over the sounds of gaming and the rolling of dice. Bull tensed at Elena’s side for just a moment, drawing Elena’s attention back to the lord.

He had lunged forward, his hands reaching for the neckline of her dress and missing when she stepped back.

“My lord!” she called, “Are you trying to _disrobe_ me?”

The crowd gasped and the sound of gaming stopped. Elena held a hand up to her throat and fluttered her eyelids, quickly making sure the crowd swayed their opinion her way.

Bull stepped towards the lord, his face thunderous, “Did you just try to attack her?”

He sputtered, “You heard what she said!”

“Is it not true?” Bull asked.

“Of course not!” Evangella snapped.

A new voice came from the side, a spectator, “So why did you attack her then, good sir?”

He laughed nervously, “I did not attack her, I was simply aiding her.”

“With what, exactly?” Elena snapped, “Undressing me? Assaulting this court with your bad manners?”

Evangella’s face twisted again, with a rage greater than he had yet displayed. “I have perfect manners.”

The crowed parted at Elena’s left, drawing her attention once again. She watched as Prince Cullen approached them again and sighed internally. Her mother would never let her live this down.

She dropped into a deep curtsey, the panels of her dress shifting as she bent low. Evangella, Dorian, and Bull quickly followed suit, facing the Prince as he entered their small circle.

“Again?” He asked simply, eyes on Evangella.

The bystander from before called out, “My Prince! He tried to grab that woman!”

Cullen sighed, “Did he? Guards!” Cullen waved his hand and had several guardsmen come to us. “Take the elf and the lord to my rooms. The lord in the dining, the elf in the study. I’ll speak to them once the orchestra leaves.”

The guards nodded and split up. One wrenched up Evangella, who began to protest loudly.

“Your Grace, there has been a mistake!”

Cullen ignored him and watched as the other guard escorted Elena away. She remained silent and her only reaction was to send sideways glances at Bull and Dorian. They would do damage control for her while she was gone, in an attempt to please her mother. Unfortunately, a life of speaking her mind back home had made it so this was not the first occasion the duo would have to help her image.

This was the most severe of her adventures so far, however. Generally, she had a glib tongue but they took it in stride, losing battles of wit and magic both gracefully and with ease. Evangella was the first man to make a scene of Elena’s prowess, and it seemed she couldn’t help but egging him on. She knew she could have dueled him and won, which would have been a perfectly honorable way to end their feud, but he refused.

The guard led get gently by the elbow and she went willingly, walking with her head held high and smiling at the crowd. They looked at her with pity, clearly looking to make the lord a pariah.

She was lead through the castle and then into the main hall. The hall was filled with dancers, all dressed in rich fabrics which swirled around them as they danced, jewels glittering wherever they could. They ignored the small company moving across the room and towards the back. They went through a heavy door and into a square tower filled with stairs. They all feigned left and went through another door and down some stairs to rooms outfitted for the Prince’s personal use.

Elena was led straight to an office just inside and to the left while Evangella was nearly dragged further in to what she assumed was to be his quarters for the evening. The guards were gentle with her, asking if she needed anything before locking her in.

She glanced about her space and registered immediately that is was well appointed. Every surface gleamed with fresh polish and shone in the firelight. Large marble slabs were colder underfoot before she stepped on lush carpet on which perched a velvet couch and a large stately desk. The desk was cluttered with scrolls and parchments, small scraps from ravens and messenger birds all amongst the bigger pieces.

She trailed light fingers over the surface of the couch leaving small trails in the fabric before she rearranged her skirts and sat close to the fire. One lean leg poked out from the panels, wrapped in gold and small diamonds winking off of one of her anklets. Her foot jiggled as she waited, arms crossed and mind now racing.

What would she say to the prince?

How would she explain herself?

Would he blame her for egging him on? She was awash with same herself at her words and actions. She should have demurred as he mother had taught her, let the man take her rightful winnings and walk away as calm as could be.

Before she could come up with a plan there were heavy footsteps outside her door.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kindness so far, you're all the best!


	3. Chapter 3

Elena quickly went over her posture, pulling her spine straight and giving her skirts a fluffing before the door handle turned and in stepped the prince.

It was just for a split second, but when he looked at her Elena was struck with the image of weariness. He was tired, his eyes absent of light and a frown on his lips. His shoulders were slumped and he took a brief moment to pinch the area between his brows before he shook his shoulders and became hard.

“Lady Lavellan,” he sighed, walking into the office and taking me in.

She stood and swept down into a curtsey, “Your Highness.”

He waved a hand “Please, have a seat. This has been a long night for us all.”

She nodded and sat back down, again arranging her skirts in a way which mother would have approved of.

“Lavellan,” he started, but then paused. His hands moved out to clasp in front of him and his face was shrouded in flickering shadows from the fire light. He looked… pensive, she realized, like he was having difficulties sorting something out.

“Your Highness?”

“What happened?”

Elena sighed, “I honestly could not tell you.”

His head tilted to the left, “I just spent five minutes with the good lord and he insists that you dishonored and cheated him.”

She shook her head and demurred, “No Your Highness.”

Cullen leaned back in the chair and she watched as some light came back into his golden eyes. “You are lying.”

Elena shook her head again, “I did _not_ cheat.”

The prince smiled, “Prove it.”

“Sorry?”

“Beat me at a game.”

Elena sputtered, her hands going to her throat and eyes widening, “But it’s a game of chance!”

Cullen smiled, “Just play me and don’t cheat then, I will decide for myself.”

She shifted in her chair, suddenly uncomfortable, “I—I don’t know how that—“

“Just humor me.”

She nodded cautiously.

Cullen smiled genuinely then and stood in a swirl of red and golden fabric, his cape moving around him in a fluid swirl of silk and embroidered lions. He offered a fine leather gloved hand and she took it, cautiously.

“I promise,” he said, “I don’t bite.”

She laughed, “All those lions on your cape would say otherwise.

Cullen just smiled.

He pulled her gently to his desk and sat her down on one corner of the desk, pausing a moment to make sure she was settled and comfortable before taking his chair and rummaging around in a drawer.

“I keep a deck of cards in here,” he said, “It will be difficult to play with two people, but I am sure it can be done.”

She shuffled on the spot, making sure she was comfortable, “I am sure we can manage it.”

He stopped rummaging, “Everything all right?”

Elena stopped moving and looked up, blonde hair falling over one shoulders and swaying with movement, “Oh yes, fine. Just getting comfortable.”

He said nothing but nodded his assent before smiling and pulling out a deck of cards. Elena watched with avid eyes as he pulled off his gloves with his teeth, moving one finger at a time before revealing finely boned hands with veins working across the back.

Her breathing stopped and the world focused down into that one moment. It was the first time in all her visits to the castle she had been alone with the prince for any length of time. Janelle had seen to it that they had been introduced to one another in the past, but alone time with the prince was a commodity hotly traded for. Families had been known to maneuver for years just to have a single afternoon of the prince’s time in which to force their daughter on the poor man.

To be alone with him here, in this moment, was like an out of body experience. It wasn’t anything she could have prepared for or anticipated, so she stopped trying to imagine how things would have worked if she had time to prepare, and instead relaxed. She had gotten this far on misfortune alone, there was no sense in fighting it.

Elena moved to reflect his show of getting comfortable, swinging some panels of her skirt to free up leg movement. She crossed her legs and leaned forward, watching as his hands began to expertly shuffle the cards and deal them out.  Cullen dealt the imaginary dealer’s cards and then sat back in his chair, arranging his cards and one hand on his chin.

Elena slouched into the chair and let one leg bob just slightly as she thought over her cards. It was a neutral tell she used to establish a baseline in any game she played. It was important to determine just how much your opponent paid attention, how much strategy they were using.

The prince’s eyes flickered to her foot and then back to his cards. He was a strategist. Elena smiled.

It was well known the prince had spent years in school and played a large role in the strategy of Aravalle’s last battle with Tevinter, he was not the stereotype of the uncaring dull prince. He was sharp and hard and _smart._

Elena glanced at the dealer’s cards and then back to her own. This time, she kept her tells at bay. Did not smile or shuffle her cards. She remained the same, face impassive, foot gently bobbing as she looked to be deep in thought. To show she had a plan was the first step on the road to loss.

The prince looked to her, “Your bet, My Lady.”

She smiled, “Your Highness. Three coppers.”

A bet which was conservative by noble standards, but was just enough for him to see she would not be holding back.

Cullen nodded, “A silver then.”

“I’ll call.”

Cullen nodded, “Discards then please.”

Elena discarded just one of her cards and drew a new one. Cullen watched her carefully, noticing her face did not register disappointment nor happiness. Cullen discarded two of his cards. Elena watched as his eye twitched once before his entire face settled.

She arranged her cards as she wanted and then made her second bet, “Two gold.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow and his lip twitched, Elena watched the movement pull at his scar, “Confident?”

“Perhaps.” Her face was calm and her voice did not pitch one way or the other.

Cullen frowned, “I can see how the lord lost to you.”

“I am gladdened, Your Highness.”

Cullen openly smiled then, “Smart.”

Elena inclined her head.

“I’ll call your bet.”

Elena smiled then and watched as Cullen revealed the last two dealer’s cards. She hadn’t needed them, however. Elena was good at picking her battles, and she had picked well.

She turned her cards first, showing four of a kind with an additional pair made with the dealer’s cards.

The prince frowned, “You have me beat.”

He revealed three of a kind along with a pair.

“Better luck next time Your Highness,” Elena said, not bothering to contain her smile this time.

“I watched you closely,” he said.

“Did you?”

He nodded, “You didn’t cheat.”

“I have no need to, I am good at card games,” she tossed her hair so it was hanging down her back and gathered the cards to herself so she could shuffle.

The prince laughed, glorious, golden, and long. She had never heard his mirth before and the sound of it was like warm waves lapping against her skin, relaxing and satisfying. Again Elena was distracted for a moment by his scar before she began to shuffle. It was unusual to see a noble with any kind of scarring, it was seen as unsightly. Of course, _Cullen’s_ scar was seen as quite manly and made him even more desirable to the ladder climbing women of the court.

Elena was only passingly interested in advancing her family’s fortunes. An accomplished mage on her own and well aware that her family was already well regarded, Elena saw no point. She and Dorian spent their free time studying magic together and gossiping about those women who did try to capture the attention of the fair prince, not trying to maneuver for him themselves.

The idea made their stomachs turn collectively. Elena had since birth longed for something other than what she had seen in her siblings and her own parents. Marriages devoid of love and care, tying yourself to someone for paltry advances that mattered only to a small few. They always ended in arguments and cold beds at night.

Elena had always dreamed bigger, and befriending Dorian only made her want that more. His relationship with The Iron Bull was something she envied. They spoke with each other honestly and openly, not hiding the affection they had for one another nor how much they enjoyed one another’s company. She wanted that for herself desperately, something honest and good and worth living for.

Dorian teased her for it, of course, but she knew he understood. He had been through trial after trial in the quest for his family’s understanding, and had only gotten it when they had met Bull and saw how utterly smitten he was with their son.

“Lady Lavellan?”

Elena sat up straight in her chair, smiling an apology. She had zoned out and was staring over the prince’s shoulder, “My apologies, lost in thought.”

She shuffled the cards quickly, ignoring the prince’s wondering gaze. She dealt them fast and set up for another game. This time, Elena folded in the first round.

He didn’t collect the cards to shuffle, and instead looked at her. His eyes wandered over her face, golden eyes meeting her blue, and then down the column of her neck, over the garnet necklace he wore and dipped down to the low cut of her neckline before traveling back up.

“What were you thinking about?” He asked, voice soft and warm.

“I’m sorry?”

“Before this last hand, what were you thinking about?” He leaned forward and put his chin atop a fist and watched her carefully, eyes glowing like citrines in the low light.

She shifted on her seat, “I was thinking about my friend Dorian, and his partner Bull.”

“The two who were at the table with you?”

“Very observant,” she nodded, “Dorian and I have known each other for some time now, and I admire his relationship with Bull. It’s unlike so many others you see in court.”

“Outside of the fact that they should be bitter enemies?”

Elena sighed and leaned in towards the prince, whispering almost conspiratorially, “They actually love one another.”

His eyes widened, much to her interest, for just a brief moment, his lips parting slightly with surprise, “Genuinely? Not some failed attempt to create peace?”

“He’s Tal-Vashoth.”

His brows rose nearly to his hairline, “A magister and a rogue qunari, together voluntarily, who could have imagined?”

Elena shrugged and smiled, shaking her head and sending her curled hair floating around her shoulders, “They are genuinely in love. It’s sweet.”

“And you were thinking of them in the middle of our game?”

She frowned to try and cover up her blush, “I was thinking I wish they knew where I was.”

“How come?”

“So we could discuss how my mother would be all in a tizzy, her Elena alone with the prince.”

Cullen’s face shut down quickly and completely, his eyes losing all light, “I see.”

Elena caught the change, her blue eyes working his form over and also noting that his arms were now crossed and his posture was closed off. “I am not here to steal your heart, Your Highness. I have no wish for a marriage of convenience.”

Cullen eyed her wearily, “Truly?”

She shook her head, “I just told you I admired a pairing based solely on love. I cannot admire them and wish the opposite for myself.”

The prince sighed, “My apologies. My father… He wishes for me to marry before my coronation.”

“But that’s… Quite soon,” Elena’s mind pounded with the new revelation. The king wanted his son to marry, and soon, every woman who was in residence for the party could be the future king. There were many who would use the connection to weaker her homeland, to pad their family coffers, or to start wars with those who had slighted them.

Cullen nodded, “Hence why marriage is on my mind.”

“Do you not already have a paramour?” Elena asked, curious. Surely the prince must have someone to warm his bed at night.

He sat up and rubbed at the back of his neck, his first sign of discomfort along with pink cheeks, “I… Do not. No.”

“I see,” she said carefully, “No one catch your eye?”

“It’s hard to be with anyone when you’re constantly being watched,” he admitted, “Even if I were enamored with someone, it’s hardly romantic to kiss while guards look on.”

Elena laughed at the vision, “I can understand that, certainly. My mother keeps a close watch over me as well. Although the watch she keeps is much more lax than the ones human parents seem to keep.”

The prince sighed, long and deep, “Indeed, the elves seem to be more… accepting of informal affairs.”

“I think the rest of the world will follow, eventually,” she said.

“Me and my love life can only hope,” he muttered eyes becoming downcast and weary.

The weariness he had displayed when he walked in was again there on his face, but this time he did not chase it away and simply let it be.

Elena shuffled closer and put a hand atop of his, “We need not discuss it if it upsets you.”

His hand turned over and gripped her gently, “It’s all right.”

“Another hand then?” Elena asked, smiling.

She was certain she had proved she had not cheated the lord out of his money, but truth be told she had little interest in rejoining the ball. She had no one to dance with, and being banned from gambling all she had left to do was to talk with people. Her only friends at the soiree were Bull and Dorian, and no doubt with her absence they had left to be alone.

Cullen shook his head, much to her disappointment, “As much as I am loath to rejoin the festivities, I apparently have a dance cards forty dances long at the moment.

She winced with sympathy, “That sounds…. Awful. All those women vying for your attention.”

“I imagine you have many men after yours?” He asked, voice careful.

Elena tilted her head and leaned forward, now curious, “Are you… asking me if I have a paramour?”

Cullen blushed but nodded, his eyes on the ceiling above her.

Elena was charmed, utterly in that moment. The man with the quick hands and clever mind who did not like kissing where others could watch but who could also lead whole armies to success and would soon be leading an entire kingdom.

But he also blushed when he asked about her and showed how tired he was only in private. He gave those in his court a chance to explain themselves and did not show prejudice against her for being an elf. Her heart began to pound, and for the first time she was so aware of its beat she could have sworn he heard it too.

Elena smiled and softly squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to her, “I do not.”

He paused for a moment, and she watched his tongue dart out to wet his lips, “Perhaps then, another hand.”


	4. Pt. 1

Their time passed quickly, with hand after hand of cards passing between them distributed almost evenly. Elena was quick to smile once they got into a rhythm, letting her tells through more and more, but Cullen didn’t take advantage.

He simply observed as she bit on her full lower lip, watched carefully as her blue eyes flickered to him and then back to her cards, gauging him even as he watched her. He found everything she did interesting the more he sat with her. He wanted to know why her foot jingled softly when she moved it, to thread his fingers into her hair and find the hidden pins which sparkled every time she turned her head. He found her utterly enchanting, challenging, and warm.

She was so warm with her piercing eyes and lightly tanned skin, her smiles which hit him directly in the center of his chest whenever she graced him with it. He wanted to deny everything, to move past his feelings and concentrate again on what he had to learn, on making his plans and determining the path of his country.

But there was a part of him which ached to keep speaking with her, to ask her about her friends and coax out more stories about the strange Magister-Qunari couple, or to see if she had any siblings or what her favorite color was, or what kind of flowers he should send her.

She was laughing now, her eyes bright as she recounted her story, “And then Bull shows up the next day and makes a bee line for me.” She lifts her hands to her head and imitated Bull’s horns, her voice dropping to imitate the large man. “Did you know,” she drawled, “That when mages get _excited_ they can lose control of their magic? The ‘Vint nearly destroyed my curtains.”

Cullen smiled, chuckling at her imitation. They had disregarded their card game long ago in favor of telling stories. Elena had really flourished then, able to stop playing the game and relax more truly, excitedly telling him of her friends Cassandra and Varric and Solas, alongside the more enigmatic Iron Bull and the magister Dorian.

 “Then the huge brute smiles at me and winks like he won the damn lottery. Heathens, all of them,” she declared, lowering her hands to smiled at the prince, her eyes still shining with amusement as she recalled the early days of Bull and Dorian’s courtship.

Of course, she had introduced them, so Bull had felt it his duty to recount to her as many details as possible, including Dorian’s proclivity to light things on fire when they shared an intimate embrace. Elena had never had the chance to test the theory herself, although it seemed plausible. Her mother insisted that she save herself for her husband, so she never was able to properly test her theory. She sighed wistfully then and looked down at her neglected cards.

Cullen watched her silently, then asked her, “Is that true then?”

She looked up, startled, “What?”

“He really did light them on fire?” Cullen put his head into one hand and looked at her, eyes twinkling.

“I—Well. I think he did, yes.” She could feel herself blushing just slightly.

“Do all mages do that then?” He asked, carefully keeping his expression only politely interested.

He enjoyed the way she shuffled on her seat, “I couldn’t tell you.”

Cullen smiled, but didn’t say anything and instead yawned, one hand covering his mouth as the other stretched behind him. The long days were catching up to him, morning spent preparing to be king and nights filled with dancing and playing the every great Game.

Elena smiled but found herself yawning with sympathy, “It’s rather late, Your Highness.”

Cullen was suddenly drowsy, his eyes at half-mast and his head tilted just slightly, “It is… How time flies.”

She found herself smiling softly, watching as he mussed a hand through his carefully groomed hair and leaned back into his chair, hand crossed over his stomach and head tilted back.

She stood then, stretching languidly as she worked out the cricks and knots in her back, and then twisted one side to the other until her spine popped. Then she rolled her shoulders and was startled to find Cullen watching her.

“I thought I may take my leave,” she said softly, regret coloring her tone.

Cullen stood suddenly, “No!”

Elena looked at him quizzically, “No?”

Cullen blushed furiously and rubbed at the back of his neck, “Maker—T-that is not what I had meant to say.” He sighed and looked at her from underneath his lashes.

She stepped to him, her wrapped feet soft on the tiles as she put a hand on his arm, “I will be in town for some time yet.”

He nodded, immediately relieved at her statement.

“Perhaps… We can have lunch together tomorrow? If you’re not busy, that is,” She sighed. “Although I am sure you are busy, what with your extensive dance card and the coronation and all—“

His lips pressed against her softly, just for a moment before he pulled back, his face more red than before but his eyes soft, “I would love to. I’ll send someone to your rooms around noon.”

When he went to bed that night, Cullen could have sworn he had felt a bit of magic when they kissed.

\---

Elena was saying in some of the palace’s guest rooms, so she wasn’t worried about being late for her lunch. Instead she fretted about what the prince must think of her. He seemed to like her, Creators he really did. He had blushed and been coy and was altogether too perfect for her to bear comfortably.

She had fallen asleep desperately wishing she had pulled him in for a deeper kiss, something which allowed her to _taste_ him and to run her hands through his hair. She sighed deeply and glanced out the window again. They had to be there any moment, ready to take her to wherever she would be sharing her dinner with Cullen.

She had dressed in a low cut dress with delicate sleeves made of sheer green fabric and a skirt was fit close to her hips but had extra panels sewn in towards the bottom, giving it a fullness which moved as she walked. Elena’s hands moved over the delicate golden embroidery and smoothed down her curled blonde tresses, making sure the strands of gold dotted with diamonds hidden there were in place.

She paced back and forth and watched her dress move, biting her lip and _waiting._ It had taken her by surprise, but her nerves had settled in her gut and given her butterflies.

There was a strong knock at the door, “Lady Lavellan!”

She jumped and ran to the door, “Yes?”

The woman at the door smiled, “I am Josephine, advisor to Prince Cullen. I am here to bring you to lunch?”

Elena nodded, “Yes, thank you.”

She pat her hair once to make sure it was still in place, although she knew it couldn’t have been ruffled in her short walk to the door, before following Josephine into the hallway.

Josephine lead her down long hallways carpeted in a deep red and gold with large flower arrangements on top of attractive armoires between every set of doors. She knew this was the guest wing, so the castle had done their best to make sure that everything was absolutely perfect. The candles on the wall were a perfect white with the Rutherford crest stamped in gold on the front, the carpets were freshly cleaned and everywhere she went smelled like flowers.

Josephine looked over at her, her brown eyes lighted with intrigue, “You and Prince Cullen met last night, I take it?”

Elena blushed and looked at her with wide eyes, “I, well. Yes I did.”

Josephine smiled, “I have known the prince for a very long time, I am pleased to see he is, ah, making friends.”

Her accent was warm and Elena smiled, “He is remarkably kind. I can see no reason why he should not have many friends.”

Josephine raised her hand to her lips and chuckled, “Oh how that would thrill the king, he has been trying to get the prince to make _friends_ for ages.”

Understanding washed over Elena, and she blushed, “Oh.”

Josephine waved her hand, “The prince is nothing if not genuine,” she assured her, “If he is dining with you then he likes _you._ He’s been defying the king for too long to suddenly change now.”

“That sounds like a lot of pressure,” she noted, secretly relieved.

Josephine sighed and glanced over at her, “It is, but he seemed very happy this morning at our meeting.”

Elena smiled, “Really?”

“Really.”

Josephine led them through the main hall and down again into Cullen’s personal rooms. They walked past the office they had occupied last night and Elena paused for a moment, the memories turning through her mind again. Cullen was hard where she was soft but unexpectedly teasing and sweet. What happened if something had changed overnight? If in the morning light they didn’t click as they had during the ball?

It all suddenly seemed too much. What was she thinking? A connection with a handsome prince when he had spent years resisting every suitor and potential alliance? She must have misread something, misinterpreted his intentions or the questions he had asked her.

The smile she kept was forced, not wanting Josephine to see her misgivings.

She had stopped them outside the dining room, “Cullen will be here in a moment.”

Elena nodded her thanks and stepped inside the room.

As with everything in the castle, the primary colors were maroon and gold. The dining room made more use of the gold than red, with warm golden wood on the floors and rugs which seemed to shimmer as the sun streaked across them. She walked over to the perfectly polished dining table, which was set perfectly with golden china and red napkins. She picked up the napkin ring and fiddled with it as she waited, not wanting to sit but needing something to occupy her time.

She was just running a ringer over a garnet set deep into the ring when the prince came in, his cheeks flushed and hair a little mussed. He stopped just inside the door and ran a hand through his hair.

“I—uh. Makers breath,” he said, “You look beautiful.”

That was not what she was expecting, “Oh. Um. Thank you.”

He smiled and closed the door behind him, rubbing at his neck as the blush faded to a delicate wash, “I hope I didn’t keep you too long.”

Elena shook her head, “You didn’t.”

“Good. Good. I was looking forward to this.”

He walked over to her and Elena’s heart picked up in pace, she could clearly make out the stubble on his chin, the scar which ran right into the lips which had graced hers the night before. She gasped lightly when he bent down and brushed his lips across her cheek, the skin there blooming with color to match his own.

Her lips were parted when he leaned back and she looked up at him, “I was too.”

Cullen smiled more fully before offering to settle her in her chair, ever the gentleman before setting down in his own.

“Let’s eat,” he declared. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post what I have thus far so I'm splitting this bit into two parts. More on the way soon!


	5. Chapter 5

Elena watched with wide eyes as servant after servant came out from hidden doors in the walls bearing plate after place of delicious smelling food. Someone must have ordered a full service for their simple affair.

Cullen looked embarrassed by the display, but as soon as they had cleared the room, leaving behind the steaming food, he settled into his meal, dishing out primarily large hunks of meat for himself. She took a moment to admire his hands, noting again that behind the normal gloves he wore, they were finely boned with veins snaking across the backs. It added a delicate quality to the otherwise broad appendages.

Elena went lighter with her choices, picking steamed vegetables that she ate often at home and some light pieces of game. He watched her with interest as she selected her choices, as if he was mentally logging them for later use. Elena caught his eye and noted that the quick contact made him blush, more so than he had previously in her presence.

He had gone silent when they came out with their fare, but Elena could see his mind working, his eyes moving quickly from place to place as he pondered whatever it was that prince’s pondered. She wondered if perhaps she had interrupted some important meeting with her request to share a meal. It was certainly a possibility, it was hardly logical to believe that the prince didn’t have other things to do with his time than to eat lunch with an elf he barely knew.

They had a connection; that she knew for sure. He was interested in her in… some manner, and Elena knew she would be very interested in spending more time with him. He was easy to talk to, kind, and bared the weight of his birthright with an ease that had to be taxing.

She sighed, resigned to simply waiting and seeing where the afternoon took her.

Everything was colorful, cooked perfectly, and completely over the top, but Elena had the feeling it was all done for her. To impress her, or to make certain there was something there she would like, in the absence of knowledge of her eating habits. It gave her hope, made her believe he felt the same was she did.

He broke the silence first, “Are you, er, attending the ball again tonight?”

Elena raised her head from her contemplation of her food, “I was planning on it, yes. Dorian, Bull, and I have plant to gamble… again.”

Cullen’s smile was lopsided and fleeting. “I had,” he paused for just a moment, as if to gather himself, “ _glanced,_ at my dance card… You did not wish to perhaps share one with me?”

Elena watched as his cheeks grew pink and to her horror she felt matching color rise to her cheeks, “Oh! No. I-I would love to. I just did not think. Well. It’s so long and at the time I wasn’t interested and…” She trailed off and looked down at her hands. Fidgeting.

Elena had never felt so mortified, she had meant to try and dance with him eventually, truly. But in all the mess of last night, she had failed to sign up.

Cullen sighed, “Er, I am sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair, so more of it fell into place, “It’s been an overwhelming couple of weeks. The Maker blasted list is so long and every time I dance with one of them—“  

Cullen stopped and looked at her, his eyes wide and pleading. “I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like they’re putting me on the spot. I know they don’t want to dance with me… For me.” His shoulders heaved, “They are always charming, of course, and beautiful but… It’s empty. They want riches and a title and to advance their family name… Make their parents proud by becoming a princess.” His laugh bordered on bitter and hopeless, “It’s deceivingly lonely.”

Elena’s expression softened, and she felt understanding hovering at the back of her mind. He wanted there to be someone he actually liked on his expansive card, to know someone in that giant list actually knew even a little of who he was. She stood and took a moment to push down her skirts before she walked over to Cullen’s chair. He watched her curiously.

“Maker! Elena I’m so—“ he started but she had reached him by then and took his hand gently, silencing him.

She crouched down next to his chair and looked up, her blue eyes were warm and her touch soft. Cullen had the sudden thought that it was the most wonderful thing he had ever felt.

“I… Cullen,” she started, letting the name roll over her lips like honey, savoring the taste of it. He relaxed noticeably when she didn’t use a title.

She took a breath and started again, “Cullen. I would like nothing more than to dance with you. I would dance every dance with you if it meant you weren’t lonely.”

Cullen grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, smiling, “I… Well, I would be honored.”

Elena smiled back, her chest swelling, “You know, there are going to be a lot of disappointed people on that extensive dance card of yours.”

“Void take them,” he said, murmuring, “They can be disappointed.”

He pulled at her hand until they were both standing, he craned his head and leaned in slowly. His lips pressed against hers gently, moving back and forth slowly before his hands came up and settled on the side of her neck.

Elena’s breath left her in a rush and Cullen stepped into her, his hands now moving, ghosting over her shoulders and then settling in the curve of her waist, fingers digging in with blunt nails to pull her closer. She leaned further back to accommodate and wrapped her arms around his neck, her heart pounding in her ears.

Elena’s mind was blank, blissfully empty of thoughts of what she should do or what her mother would think or how she should present herself. All she could do was _feel._ She was hyper aware of his hands over the silk of her dress, wrapping around her to pull her closer as he tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Every move he made was like sparks against her, pushing and pulling at her magic until it rolled over her like waves breaking against a shore.

Cullen must have felt it, because he pulled back then, his smile again just on the shy side of wicked, “That isn’t magic, is it?”

Elena blushed and looked down, her hands drifting over his sided, “Uh. It may be. Can I opt out of answering?”

He leaned into her again, “For now.”

He gathered her close and just kept her there, his hands stroking over her back and occasionally drifting through her hair, and she was content. Absolutely content to just stand there as if she belonged, like this was where she was meant to be and there was nothing in the world which could prevent them from being together.

It was true, in a sense. He was a prince, and it could not be denied that his country would benefit from having ties with her family. Clan Lavellan was wealthy, impossibly so and had deep connections within the hierarchy of Elvhenan. Some cousin of hers had married into the royal family there, making her clan’s holdings the largest in Elvhenan. Other than the princess herself, there was no one more advantageous whom Cullen could marry in the whole country. Aravalle was still small, not engaged in imperialism like many of its neighbors, and so it could use as many powerful connections as possible to protect itself from invasion.

It was entirely reasonable, and that is what scared Elena so much. There was nothing stopping them but themselves, they had the freedom to peruse this if they wanted, and if something happened it was their fault, and no one else’s. There was no fall back or barrier or convenient excuse for any failure on her part. If she messed this up, it was her fault, and her fault alone.

But she pushed the fear from her mind. There was no point in dwelling on what could happen before it had a chance to come to fruition. She refused to give agent to her negative thoughts, so instead she concentrated again on what Cullen was doing.

His chest was rumbling with what she imagined was satisfaction as his fingers sifted through her hair and tugging gently at the headpiece there and fiddling with that diamonds there. She shuffled closer to him and leaned her weight into him further.

He chuckled outright then, “Perhaps we should finish our lunch?”

Elena leaned back and glanced at the table behind him, “Oh. I almost forgot. I suppose we should.”

He kissed her hairline quickly before stepping away and guiding her back to her chair. He settled her in and again pressed his lips to the top of her head before settling back in.

They ate contentedly for a moment, each taking the time to collect their thoughts.

She worked through half of her plate before she took a large sip of wine and then faced him, “What… Exactly are we doing?”

Cullen stopped with his fork hallway to his mouth, “P-Pardon?”

She smiled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

He shook his head and frowned, “No, of course. This is my fault.”

She waved her hands, “No! Absolutely not, this is all my doing.”

“Elena…” He sighed, “I am the one who should have defined things at the start.”

“I could have asked you,” she countered.

Bizarrely, he smiled, the ghost of a blush still on his cheeks, “Just yesterday you were still referring to me by my title, and now you’re already arguing with me?”

Elena blushed, “I’m sorry.” She paused, “Should I apologize?”

“Maker no!” he assured, “I-I’m sorry, I was only joking. It’s refreshing, your honesty.”

She smiled, “Would you return the favor then?”

“Pardon?”

“Honesty,” she answered.

Cullen sighed and leaned back, abandoning his plate and examining her, watching how the light bounced off of her in the sunny dining room, “I believe I can.”

He ran a hand through his hair, a motion she was realizing was habitual before starting on a large inhale, “I rather, well.” He lost his footing, unsure as to where his words would take them and reverted to a question instead, “Maker. Could you ever imagine being, uh, with me?”

Elena smiled, giving him his time to find his words and searching for her own as she could, “ I think I may already have.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, biting her lip and watching as his eyes widened.

“I-I well. I suppose I should have known that, with the, uh, kissing and all.”

She smiled and waved her hand, finding her confidence again, “Could you imagine being with me?”

The words were easier for her after he had already said them aloud, but the answer was more important to her than she had thought it would be. It should have been obvious, but when faced with the idea of life with a prince, she needed assurances that she was what he wanted.

Cullen’s smile warmed and he leaned towards her, his hand resting on top of hers as he spoke earnestly, “I could, of course. I never would have dreamed… But it’s all I can think about now.”

Black pupils took over a large part of her irises and she found herself staring at Cullen a little slack jawed.

“Why do you look so surprised?” He teased as his fingers gently stroked hers.

“I-I—Well. I don’t really quite know. It’s one thing to kiss, but… Well you’re a prince I suppose. I am having a hard time reconciling you as a prince and you, well, the rest of the time.”

He chuckled low but his face fell a fraction of an inch, “Is that a problem for you, then?”

She grabbed his hand and stood, “Maker, no! It will just take some getting used to is all.”

His smile was relived, and he made to stand next to her, “That’s all I can ask of you.”

She grabbed his other hand and smiled up at him, glad to have at least something out in the open, “So… What now?”

He leaned into her and pressed his forehead to hers, keeping his eyes on hers, “Now, we both have to get ready for _a lot_ of dancing.”


	6. Chapter 6

Josephine was shocked when Cullen came strolling into her office, a small smile on his lips and a bounce in his step. A _bounce,_ Cullen!  

“Josephine, please see that Lady Lavellan is dressed for… An absurd amount of dancing this evening,” he said, waving his arm vaguely to his right.

“An absurd amount of dancing? Just how much is that?” Josephine asked, her eyes wide and trained carefully on her prince.

Cullen swallowed but remained calm, years of etiquette lessons and lectures on ‘The Game’ had made it so he could and would keep his cool while in public. Although he had yet to test his control in romantic situations, he had a feeling he would be in unfamiliar waters where Elena was concerned.

“I also want my dance card cleared for the night,” he said, directing his attention to the fireplace and crossing his arms behind his back. He struck a regal form  in profile, the scar along his lip catching the light. Josephine was quickly reminded it was not her place to question as much as she wanted to.  It was not her place to dictate or pry into his search for a queen, she was a political advisor, not an advisor of the heart.  No matter how warm Cullen’s expression or how much she liked Elena.

“Right away, Your Highness. Am I to understand you will be escorting the Lady Lavellan to the ball?”

Cullen nodded, “Indeed. Please see to anything she may need.”

Josephine stood and bowed at the waist, “Right away, Prince Cullen.”

She left the room in a swirl of golden fabric, and Cullen made a mental note to give her a raise.

She hurried on her way to Elena, but was derailed when a messenger stopped her, “His Majesty wishes to see you.”

“Now?”

They nodded, “He and Leliana are in his office.”

Josephine smiled, it was time for the spymaster to put her knowledge to use.

\---

Elena was shocked to see Josephine outside of her door, a smile splitting her face nearly in half it was so large.

“Lady Lavellan,” she greeted, “I’m here at the request of Prince Cullen.”

Elena laughed, “You are?”

“Indeed,” Josephine walked into the room, and trailing behind her were three or four women carrying baskets overflowing with various fabrics and threads.

Fall after fall of colorful fabric was pulled from those baskets and artfully arranged on the chest at the foot of Elena’s borrowed bed.

Josephine swept one hand out, the other was occupied with a clipboard with a candle precariously placed on the end, “These are your ladies in waiting for the evening. Loretta, Calletta, and Calora.”

Elena nodded at them all, “Lovely to meet you.”

The trio of women giggled, and one of the, clearly the leader, stepped forward, “I’m Calora. We’re here to fit you for a dress tonight, and to make you something for the coronation.”

Her eyes grew wide, “But… I didn’t get an invitation to the Coronation, just the party afterwards.”

Josephine stepped in next to Calora, “His Majesty insists you attend.”

“I—“ Elena didn’t know what to say. It was one thing to dance with Cullen, but being invited to the coronation was an honor reserved for dignitaries and royalty, not a noble from another country hundreds of miles away.

“Please,” Calora said, her hands fluttering over Elena’s and pulling them into her own, “Allow us to help you.”

Elena looked at her, distressed, “I don’t believe I have the ability to refuse.”

Josephine shook her head, “It would be unwise to do so.”

“My mother is going to be thrilled,” Elena laughed, “She sends in her least involved and ambitious daughter and suddenly that very same girl is attending a coronation.”

Josephine’s face dropped a fraction, “Is there an… issue I should be aware of?”

“No,” Elena waver her hand in front of her face, “She genuinely will be thrilled. I suppose I’m just in disbelief.”

“I see,” she said scribbling a note down, “I will send word to her as soon as possible asking to extend your stay here.”

“What?” Elena asked stepping towards the ambassador, “Why?”

“Just a hunch,” she said smiling wickedly, any earlier darkness gone from her expression, “I have a feeling good things are happening here. And we _must_ hurry, the order for your dress must be put in as soon as possible and then you must prepare for tonight’s events.”

Elena didn’t respond, she just held out her arms in surrender to the ladies. They descended on her quickly, holding up this piece of fabric and that, trying to find a balance between her own family’s colors of silver and pale blue with the reds and golds of the Rutherford’s. They settled on gold and pale blue, with large swaths of gold over the icy fabric and grand plans for the coronation.

Elena was excited, it was novel, the idea of combining the colors she knew so well as her own with someone else’s. Her older sisters had already been through the process, sometimes changing their well-known wardrobe out entirely and taking on their husband’s colors as their own. Everything was out of her hands now, not what she wore or where she went, and while the loss of her autonomy was jarring, for right now she could surrender to the kind Ambassador’s schedule and the will of a foreign king. Especially if it meant such beautiful clothing and dancing until she couldn’t stand anymore.

It was fun to mix her signature colors with something new, creating an elegant arrangement that would make sure she was regarded well at the coronation. Calora and Josephine were aiming to invoke the feeling of the Rococo style popular in Val Royeaux without all of the stiff fabrics and complicated undergarments. Josephine made several sketches on her notepad and then sent them off with Calletta to deliver to the seamstress.

Then Loretta, Josephine, and Calora swirled around her, tittering.

“You have such beautiful gowns Mistress Lavellan,” Calora commented.

“Indeed, My Lady,” Josephine nodded, “Dressing for this evening should be a breeze. Just make sure she has comfortable shoes, our prince intends to do a lot of dancing with the lady.”

Elena laughed, “He said that did he?”

“He did,” Josephine assured her, “He was smiling too. He almost _never_ smiles.”

Elena blushed but steadfastly pretended she didn’t, “That’s gratifying to hear, but I don’t wear shoes.”

Josephine pulled a bright blue gown out of a dresser at the far end of the room and held it up to the light, “I think this is perfect. You will match the prince well in this, and you will need the extra cushioning for your feet. You’ll thank me later.”

Elena sighed, giving in and moving on, “We’re to match now? Dorian is going to love that….” Elena could picture the other mage looking at her, smug and hitting Bull’s arm when Cullen took her hand for a dance.

He would have so many questions for her, she had better make sure to see him early in the night and not completely blindside him.

A solid knock came from the door, but no voice to accompany it.

“Come in, Leliana,” Josephine called.

A woman with chin length red hair stepped into the room with a velvet bag in one hand and a searching expression. Elena had the distinct sense that the petite woman could see right through her, assess everything that mattered to her and was cataloging it for future use.

Elena smiled all the same, “Hello.”

Leliana bobbed her head, “Good afternoon. Blue, excellent choice. I’ll make sure our dearest Cullen is dressed accordingly.”

“Leliana!” Josephine admonished.

“Oh all right,” the mysterious woman sighed, “ _Prince_ Cullen. In any case, I’ve brought shoes.”

Josephine smiled at that and Elena watched as she peeked into the velvet bad the other woman was carrying. She jumped a little, “You’re going to love these, Lady Lavellan.”

Elena waved a hand at her, “I think you’ve seen enough of me to call me Elena, please.”

Josephine smiled, “Elena then, you should slip these on and we’ll dress you. Calletta still has to do your hair and Calora has a fine hand with makeup.”

Once the sun had begun to set, Calora set down her brush and stepped back, “My Lady, you look lovely.”

Sweeps of black began at her lash line and faded up her eye and under, giving them a dark smoky look which forced her blue eyes into stark contrast, making even their elven size appear to be larger and almost unearthly. She had kept everything else warm and peachy, a wash of blush on the cheeks and a peachy pink tint pushed into her lips.

“You look stunning,” Josephine gushed, “The prince will be pleased.”

Elena looked herself over thoroughly, wanting to make sure she really did look as perfect as she was hoping. She had felt the faint press of Cullen’s lips on hers all day, her stomach churning with nerves and excitement at the idea of kissing him again, or gliding across the dance floor with everyone watching.

The cobalt silk of her dress suited her well, with a corseted top in an Orlesian fashion cut to end at her hips and giving way to a fall of the material, uninterrupted save for dotting of clear gems which caught the light when she moved. She had her legs wrapped in silver for the night, and Josephine insisted on her wearing shoes, although she would likely kick them off before the night was over. The pair was trimmed with pearls around the toe and Josephine had laughed when Elena frowned at them.

“Leliana has a penchant for shoes,” she laughed.

They cramped her toes but it was bearable, and they were very soft and cushioned. She wasn’t opposed to testing them out a little before taking them off. She slipped on her family’s emerald and Josephine popped dark blue sapphires in her ears and Calletta threaded matching gems through her hair before they all stepped back and declared her ready to face the ball.

Josephine took both her hands in her own, her face serious, “Keep your head high, do not let anyone shame you, and remember to enjoy yourself.”

Elena smiled half-heartedly, but the butterflies in her stomach had surged at her words and she could manage no more. The entire court would be watching them, which was as thrilling as it was dangerous. There were very powerful woman vying for the attention she would be receiving that night, and while she didn’t dare ask Cullen, she had a feeling what it all would mean and the ire she would face would not be small.

Before she could bolter herself there was a heavy knock at the door and Cullen called out, “Elena? Are you ready?”

Josephine held up a hand to keep her from speaking, “She will be right there, Your Highness.”

Josephine gestured hurriedly at the remaining ladies in waiting and they made quick work of what was left of the cosmetics and vacated the room before Elena could thank them. Josephine winked at her before letting herself out.

Cullen nearly tripped in, “Jose--! Ooph.”

The door was closed firmly shit behind him.

Elena laughed but made her way to his side quickly, “Are you alright?”

“Maker’s breath that woman—“ Cullen stopped and hauled in a large breath, cutting a hand through his hair and mussing it a little.

Elena looked down at her dress, “What?”

He hauled her into him and crushed his lips to hers, a hand sliding roughly into her pinned up curls. Elena gasped but his hands worked their way around her, and she could feel the long line of his body against hers, softening her and molding her to him.

His hand curled around her waist and in-between kisses he began muttering, “I don’t know how I will be able to keep my hands off of you.”

Elena smiled into his next kiss, “You could always… Not.”

He chuckled, “Don’t tempt me.”

He pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers, “Shall we?”

She sighed, “I suppose it would be poor form for the prince to be late.”

Cullen smiled wickedly, “Especially late with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.”

Elena blushed and laughed, threading her arm through his, “Let’s be away then my handsome prince.”


	7. Chapter 7

The walk down the halls and various staircases to the mail hall seemed longer than it should have been. The shoes were an adjustment, but she made it easily, and she did realize quickly that the extra padding from the soles would come in handy when dancing.

Cullen did say he intended to dance with her _a lot_ , so Elena had a feeling that she would be grateful for them later.

“Do we have to dance _all_ night?” She asked leaning into his arm.

Cullen looked over at her, “I suppose not _all_ night.”

“Am I still banned from gambling? I could always teach you a thing or two.”

He chuckled, “Just try not to make anyone angry today.”

Elena frowned, “That was _his fault,_ I will have you know.”

“I know,” he said, pressing a kiss into her hair, “Doesn’t mean you can’t attempt to avoid something similar.”

She sighed, “Very well.”

Her scalp was still tingling from the casual touch when Cullen straightened up and his face fell flat. He composed himself just before reaching the door for the main hall. There was a main waiting for the signal standing just before it, eyes on Cullen for a nod.

Cullen looked over at Elena, his eyes settling into a grim seriousness.

Elena took a moment to breathe deep, clearing her mind of anything outside of the ball before nodding at Cullen.

He gave the signal to the herald, who opened the door and announced clearly, “His Royal Highness, Prince Cullen, escorting Lady Elena Lavellan of Clan Lavellan.”

Cullen strode forward purposefully, shoulders thrown back and head held thigh. Elena copied his pose, her hand light in the crook of his arm and her eyes resolutely looking at the wall just above the gathered crowd’s head.

Every eye was on the pair as they moved into the main hall, the orchestra had fallen silent for their arrival and not a pin fell in the entire hall as they walked in. Cullen had _never_ before brought someone with him to an event, let alone something as prolific as a coronation celebration. Especially _his own._

Fans fluttered over mouths in every corner of her vision as nobles whispered to one another, quietly enough to not be heard except by a select few. Where they parted for the couple, it was silent as the grave, their words, harsh of complimentary, were kept from her ears. Elena could feel her ears straining to watch a wisp of gossip, before she reigned in her curiosity and remembered to appear composed. Her mother had taught her nothing if not to be composed.

Dorian could always fill her in on the gossip later. 

Cullen lifted a hand to place over Elena’s smaller one and led her to the middle of the dance floor. The simple touch reminded her the core reason why she was here. She _liked_ Cullen. As a person he was charming and kind and laughed at her stories, no matter how simple. She would stand up to as much scrutiny as she needed to in order to spend more time with him. Even the still blooming affection they had for one another was worth the scrutiny and ire they would face.

Elena kept her face composed as Cullen sent a meaningful look to the orchestra. She allowed herself a small smile as the silence was broken by the first strains of a dance, not too terribly fast but brisk enough that the atmosphere lifted. Eyes were still on them, but they were not nearly so intense, concentrations broke as small clusters of noblemen and women gathered together to discuss just what it all meant and to speculate as to their relationship.

Elena wouldn’t be surprised if several people were already planning on writing her mother, inviting her to this event or that in the hopes of finding out what her daughter was up to.

Elena herself would not be invited, of course, she was too busy being with the prince.

Cullen led Elena around the dance floor with the ease of years of practice, one hand strong at her waist and the other guiding her hand as they moved, first in a box, and then separating to sweep in large circles. It was a native Aravalle dance, and Elena had a sneaking suspicion that Josephine had something to do with the selection.

The Ambassador clearly had a deep understanding of _everything._ How actions would be perceived by the public at large and the individual players within. She must have known that Elena was familiar with the dances from the previous evenings, and knew that the knowledge of such a traditional dance would play well with those who would insist off the bat that she was a foreign woman not suited for their beloved prince.

Although Elena could still feel eyes sweeping over the exposed points of her ears, the scrutiny was not nearly what she was expecting. She would have to thank Josephine later.

She followed where Cullen led her, spinning where required and keeping her steps light. Aravalle dances tended to work in segments, first going one way and then the other, together for three verses, separate for four. It brought them far enough away from each other to admire one another, and then close enough again to whisper compliments or bits of intrigue. A number of other couples quickly joined with them once the music had started and the tension eased, and Elena was amazed at the swirls of color she quickly realized she was adding to.

She was no stranger to parties, but it was rare she was a focus as she was now. Her dress was the one people strained to get eyes on in the swirls of color, undoubtedly many women would request garments in the same color hoping to catch Cullen’s eye as she had.

The shoes he had given her were thankfully not irritating her too much to where she couldn’t keep up when the pace picked up towards the end of the song.

Cullen led her faster around the dance floor, maneuvering her so her dress swished around them in a flash of color. He swung her out once more, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched her finish the dance with a flourish of the hand. The final strains of music died on the air and attention was again on the couple, but all Elena could see was the smile Cullen was fighting.

She sauntered back to him and curtseyed low, “Thank you for the lovely dance, Your Highness.”

Cullen bowed in turn, “The pleasure was all mine, _My Lady._ ”

Elena straightened and smiled at him, “Are we going to go for the next one?”

Cullen waited a moment, listening as the strains of the next dance filled the air. The other couples around them took up partners and drew close to one another, hands resting on shoulders and at sides for the much slower song.

Cullen nodded, eyes bright, and pulled her close to him, “I think we should dance this next one.”

Elena nodded, one hand resting in his larger one and the other on his shoulder, “Give us a chance to speak, at least.”

“Indeed,” His chest rumbled with his assent, “The eyes are still on us, however.”

Elena glanced over his shoulder before affixing her eyes safely on his right ear, “They are rather intent…”

He frowned just slightly, “Do you think they would be too scandalized if we left early?”

Elena glanced as Cullen spun them around, looking for Dorian and The Iron Bull, “I still haven’t spoken to anyone yet.”

Cullen nodded, “Not _immediately_ then, but later?”

She smiled at him, “Sounds good to me.”

Cullen leaned her back into a dip and as she leaned she caught Dorian looking at her, a giant smile on his face and Bull looking smug. When Cullen pulled her back to him she nearly giggled.

“Ready to meet my friends?”

Cullen quirked one edge of his lips, but kept up his regal demeanor, “As I will ever be.”

They separated to repeat their bows and curtsies, but Elena cut it short when she slipped her hand back into the crook of Cullen’s arm and started towards Dorian and Bull. The prince was clearly caught off guard by her eagerness, but he recovered quickly and managed to not look like he was being dragged.

Dorian smiled broadly and Bull clapped Cullen on the shoulder, “Welcome to the clan!”

Dorian swatted at Bull’s arm, “He isn’t _part of the clan_ yet.”

Cullen looked between Dorian and Elena, and then down at Bull’s hand, “Uh, it’s good to meet you, Ser Dorian and The Iron Bull. Elena has told me a lot about you.”

“Of course she has!” Dorian proclaimed, “We’re only her best friends.”

Bull slung an arm around Dorian, “Will we be seeing a lot of you then, Your Highness?”

Cullen’s veneer cracked a little then, a light blush creeping along his cheeks, “I-I don’t. I mean, I believe that’s up to Elena.”

Dorian smiled slowly and turned to his friend, “Will we be seeing a lot of him, dear Elena?”

Elena laughed and leaned slightly into Cullen, “I’m hoping so.”

Her light words deepened the blush in his cheeks, but their conversation was interrupted when Cullen caught sight of someone across the room.

“Please excuse me,” he said, untangling himself from Elena and nodding at the two men, “I must go speak with that marquis over there. Trade dispute, very boring I’m afraid.”

Elena nodded and the trio watched the prince walk a good ways off before Dorian could contain himself no longer and practically dragged Elena away from the crowds and onto a secluded balcony with Bull hot on their tail.

Dorian shut the doors behind them firmly before whirling to stand shoulder to shoulder with Bull, “What is going _on?”_

He hopped on his feet as he waited for her to respond, “Well, aren’t you eager?”

Bull smiled as Dorian frowned, “This is no time to play coy, El.”

She sighed and leaned back against the railing, hands idly drawing patterns on the smooth limestone, “Fine. We played cards late last night, and then we had lunch today.”

“And you didn’t think to _tell_ me?” Dorian crossed his arms and glared across the space at his friend.

Bull smiled over at his partner before sliding an arm around his shoulders, “He just likes to be the first to know things.”

Elena smiled, “I knew that.”

Dorian huffed with indignation.

“Nothing has _happened,_ per se.”

“Per se?” Dorian arched one brow, “So something has happened?”

“We may have kissed,” Elena admitted, grimacing as Dorian’s face instantly split into a large grin.

“Now that,” he announce, “I am the first to know!”

Bull shook his head and left Dorian’s side in favor of leaning on the rail to Elena’s left.

Elena glance between the two men, “It’s only been a couple of times. But it’s nice, strange, but nice.”

“You don’t mind that he’s a _shem?_ ” Dorian asked, voice teasing but eyes ringing with genuine curiosity.

“Not really,” she said, “He’s just really wonderful himself.”

“Hence why you’re attending tonight’s fete together,” he noted.

Elena nodded.

“So Boss,” Bull said, turning to face her more fully, “Are you happy?”

“I think it’s a little early for that,” Elena answered.

Bull shook his head, “Do you like being with him?”

“So far it’s been exciting.”

Dorian frowned, “You do realize this isn’t exactly the kind of man who has the luxury of casual?”

It was Elena’s turn to frown, “What do you mean?”

“He is the prince,” he said, stating the obvious, “Anything he does and any _one_ he does instantly becomes national gossip. Word will spread of what happened here tonight and everyone will assume you’re in it for the long haul together.”

“I did give it some thought but you make it sound so dire,” she said, looking down at her fingers. She concentrated on the feel of the stone beneath her hands and not the sense of dread building in her gut.

“It is dire,” Dorian assured her, “There will be talk of a supposed betrothal on the ‘morrow, not to mention some gripe about Elvehnan pulling the strings in foreign countries or some other fearful nonsense.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted.

Bull nodded, expression thoughtful, “We can deal with it, but it may be best for you to ask his paramour what his intentions are.”

“Really? You want me to ask after his _intentions?”_

Dorian nodded in agreement, “For your sake, you should. I have a feeling he is more serious than you realize.”

Elena had opened her mouth to answer but was distracted when Bull looked up at the door, expectantly, “Incoming.”

Lady Josephine pulled open the doors and then shut them quietly behind her. She glanced at the assembled group, her dark eyes shining and even darker in contrast to her white and red dress.

“Good evening My Lords, Lady Lavellan,” she said, bowing her head so her curls bobbed.

                        Bull grunted, Dorian bowed, and Elena smiled, “Josephine! This is The Iron Bull and Lord Dorian Pavus.”

Josephine’s smile was congenial, “I am afraid I am here with a message from Prince Cullen.”

Elena tilted her head but smiled all the same, “What is it?”

“Regretfully crown business has taken him away from the party and into private negotiations with a neighboring kingdom in the cigar room. They won’t be out for some time, and he wishes for me to send his apologies. The prince likely won’t be back in time for any more dancing,” Josephine gave her a sympathetic.

“So he’s leaving her to the wolves,” Bull clarified.

Josephine winced just slightly, but shook her head all the same, “Not precisely. It is important business he was drawn away on. He had been trying to sit down with this particular lord for months now. He couldn’t let the opportunity go to the wayside. The timing, however, is unfortunate.”

Elena sighed and slumped against the railing, “I guess you guys are stuck with me then.”

Dorian held a hand to his forehead and began to swoon dramatically, “How will I cope with being saddled with the surliest elf in all of Thedas?”

Bull smiled wide when Elena hit Dorian square in the gut, and Josephine giggled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my wonky posting schedule! I am graduating from uni soon so I've been super busy! Thank you, as always for the kind comments and kudos, they're all so lovely!


	8. Chapter 8

Dorian and Bull did their best to keep Elena occupied through the night. Eyes focused on her with the absence of the prince, watching her every move and attempting to glean some insight to their relationship. Whispers followed her as she swept through the ballroom or across a terrace, but it was of little importance when all was said and done. Their words just washed over Elena as she concentrated on being with her friends, and chatting with any familiar face that came across her path.

If she remained unflappable, Elena knew that the gossip would die down and a different scandal would soon have the court’s attention.

Dorian and Bull took turns dancing with Elena, and the trio took to roaming around the fort chatting with their acquaintances and gambling idly. The missing prince was noted by anyone who attended, but Josephine flitted from place to place, placating people and keeping the ball on target: celebrating the coming coronation.

They all noticed the lack of Lord Evangella that night, but it only served to make their experience more enjoyable. Wine flowed freely and everyone partook heavily, the men to steel their nerves for the tournament tomorrow, and the woman for worry of their men. Not to say people weren’t just drinking in general, however. The dancing was quicker and more involved than the previous evening, and Elena found herself glad she didn’t have to participate anymore.

Her strength was better spent cheering for Bull in the tournament tomorrow, or preparing for the great hunt the day after. After those strenuous activities they would be only half way to the coronation, and you had to pick and choose where to put in effort and where not to.

Elena chose to take it easy that night, she even slipped off her shoes and had them sent back to her room, leaving her to her wrappings and infinitely more comfortable.

Late in the evening, after Josephine had taken Cullen away, she returned and found them at a card table.

“Good evening, The Iron Bull, Ser Dorian, Lady Lavellan,” she said, curtseying.

Bull nodded, Dorian smiled and Elena waved her into the seat next to her.

Josephine smiled gratefully and her gold dress swished pleasantly when she sat down next to Elena, who smiled at the advisor.  

“Josephine, lovely to see you again,” she said.

Josephine settled in and was dealt in by the dealer, she nodded at Elena and then the dealer, “I had heard this was a favorite of yours.”

Elena nodded, “We tend to play it a lot at these functions.”

Bull huffed, “More like it’s easier for us to talk this way and the Qunari and the elf get less stares if we’re playing a game.”

Dorian chuckled, “We are quote good at it, however.”

Josephine laughed, “I knew that as well. As a faithful Antivan, I simply had to challenge you myself.”

Elena smiled at her, “This is going to be fun.”

Josephine was a shrewd card player, smiling the whole way through and betting bold when appropriate. She went head to head with anyone who bet against her, and soon she had swept away all the money for herself.

“Never bet against an Antivan,” Dorian falsettoed, mimicking Josephine’s words from earlier.

Josephine smiled wide, “See? I did _try_ to warn you.”

Bull smiled wide at Dorian, “See Kadan? The lady tried.”

Dorian pouted, but was interrupted when a messenger with a letter on a plate approached Josephine.

“A message, Ambassador?” he announced.

Josephine nodded gratefully and made quick work of the envelope, eyes scanning the message twice and smile faltering before she folded it again and turned to Elena.

“May we take a moment?”

Elena looked quickly at Dorian and Bull before nodding and following the ambassador out onto a quiet balcony. Elena closed the doors behind them and eyes Josephine carefully.

Night had fallen while they had been celebrating, and stars twinkled over the fort gently, crisp and clean in the mountain air and inviting anyone under them to stop and take a moment to admire.

Elena was struck with the idea that she and Cullen could camp out on one of these balconies, sitting under the stars and sipping wine until the wee hours in the morning. She would have bet almost anything that the man had loads of interesting stories, and she was driven to listen to every last one of them.

The darker woman had her hands clasped in front of her and she was worrying her bottom lip as she thought.

“That message,” Josephine began carefully, “Was… interesting.”

“Who was it from?” Elena asked, tilting her head and ears twitching.

Josephine sighed heavily, “It was from Cullen. He wants me to let you know he won’t be able to see you until tomorrow. He conveys his deepest sorrow, but he did want to know if you would sit with him tomorrow at the tournament?”

Elena blinked at the other woman, “Sit… _With_ him?”

Josephine nodded, “I understand that his wishes are very…. Forward. Generally such an activity would be saved for a married couple, and unwed woman would sit with their friends among the general spectators. However, His Majesty the King is very happy Cullen is showing interest in anyone, and I do not believe he would object.”

Elena sighed, well aware of the consequences such a show would have and it was incomprehensible. If she accepted they would be declaring in no uncertain terms that they at _least_ had the intent to marry, and many would whisper that they had already wed.

What would her mother think? She might be thrilled, she may be scandalized, but the jump was just so huge, the fallout could be wide spread. There was every chance her family would condone her actions and insist that she was no daughter of theirs, shaking up with a prince at the first opportunity.

“I-I… Well. This is…” Elena looked around her for strength, suddenly very much wishing that Dorian and Bull were on the balcony with her.

Aside from her family, did _she_ want that kind of declaration to be made? To be thrust even further into the international spotlight and made out to be the future queen of Aravalle?

Elena slumped and then it came to her, oddly in the voice of Dorian, _why is he leaving you to decide this on your own? Without discussion? The nerve. Surely he could spare five minutes for a frank conversation._

They hadn’t known each other long, and while their time together had been touching and more meaningful than any of her previous relationships, this was something they should be deciding together. It was a step forward they should be discussing together, not negotiating via a messenger.

“I don’t think I will,” Elena said, slowly, putting thought into each word.

Josephine raised her eyebrows, “Pardon?”

“I won’t be accompanying him tomorrow,” she said more firmly, shaking her head and letting it fall back so she could look up at the sky.

She concentrated on the starts she could find there, the feel of the jewels in her hair, the gentle brush of hair along her back. The wine she had consumed that night still buzzed through her veins, but Elena was sure in her decision. It was impossible, too much too soon.

Josephine sighed and left her alone on the balcony, “As you wish.”

Elena grunted in assent, but stayed where she was. Anger and confusion was still simmering in her gut as thoughts raced through her head. Had she over reacted? Surely not, she deserved to discuss something like this _with_ her… Partner? Lover? Boyfriend? But what if Cullen was offended she would not be accompanying him?

Just what did Cullen want to _be_ to her? He was clearly looking for a relationship, but something as serious as what he wanted now, so soon, it was impossible.

Elena sighed, resolved to waiting to speak with the man herself. The stars held no answers for her.

She turned to leave but stopped when she saw Bull approaching her, without Dorian.

He came out onto the balcony, quietly, eyeing her cautiously.

“The ambassador seemed to be moving in a hurry,” he noted idly.

Elena nodded, “It was an invitation to the tournament tomorrow… Cullen wanted to sit together.”

Bull whistled low, “You two talk about that shit yet?”

“Which shit?”

“Marriage,” he stated, “Babies, the whole heir to the throne bit.”

“We spoke of that last part,” she admitted, shoulders slumped and voice lacking authority, “But we never discussed anything else. We have only just met.”

“Royals aren’t exactly known for taking their time,” he pointed out, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“I knew that,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes, “But we haven’t even got past kissing, let along deep conversations about our future and where we’re going and all that.”

Bull took her by the elbow and settled her on a bench at one end of the balcony. Once he was satisfied she was comfortable and focused on him again, he crossed his arms and looked down at her.

“The way I see it,” he said, “you have three choices. One, you accept whatever he gives you are trust that he knows what he’s going with this whole royalty nonsense. Two, you break it off.” He gave her a significant glance, “Or three, you sit down together and come up with a plan.”

“Hard to sit down with someone who is always busy and discuss a plan while also playing getting-to-know-you.” Elena remarked.

Bull smiled, “That’s true, but have you tried?”

Elena deflated, “Not really. I was a little caught up.”

“This whole mess is rather distracting,” Bull sighed, moving so one hand was hitched on a hip, “But you have to think it’s worth it if you’ve stuck it this far.”

“I think it is,” she said with a dreamy voice.

“You sure you just don’t need a good fuck? Cause I’m sure we can find a volunteer,” he teased.

Elena laughed, her worries settling to the back of her mind, “I appreciate the offer, but maybe we should finish out this ball instead. And should you even still be here? Aren’t you participating in the tournament tomorrow?”

Bull’s laugh boomed around the space,  “I am! Don’t worry about me though, I can take whatever they throw at me.”

“I’m sure Dorian’s thrilled about that,” she replied, voice wan.

“He loves me for me,” Bull said, smiling wide, “It’s his best quality.”

Elena sighed, “I don’t even truly know what Cullen thinks of me.”

Bull frowned, “You’ll learn.”

She nodded in response, taking one final moment for self-pity before shaking her head, “How about we finish the night with drinking?”

His answering grin was huge, “Now we’re talking.” 


	9. Chapter 9

Bull, Dorian and Elena pulled aside a server for the evening and had them dedicated to doing nothing but bringing them drinks. Several bottles for Iron Bull alone, and a fair number between Dorian and Elena as well.

Eyes still followed them everywhere, and Elena could feel the judgement the more they drank, but it was beyond her to care about their opinions and judgement. She had made her entrance, tongues were already wagging, and to her it was best to just be herself. Let them see who she truly is and judge her on that. She was friendly, kind, exuberant, and a little ridiculous. She couldn’t imagine them disliking her, so let them all see exactly who she was.

“And then,” Dorian practically yelled, “He jumped off the balcony and ran into the night!”

Elena laughed, “And your father was none the wiser?”

Dorian shook his head and smiled at Bull, “He escaped before we could be found out. My father would have reamed me a new one. He’s content to let me do as I will as long as I’m not _in_ Tevinter. Hard to bring shame on the family name from halfway across Thedas. In Tenvier, however, he insists I act with propriety.”

Bull grumbled, “He would never accept if we were ‘out’ in Tevinter.”

“Too true,” Dorian sighed, “Maybe one day word will reach him from one of these balls, but until then… He’ll leave me alone. I think he has his suspicions though. That perhaps we’re more than casual lovers.”

Bull leaned into Dorian and ran a hand over his shoulder, “Let him be suspicious.”  

Dorian smiled and leaned a little too far into Bull, “As you wish.”

Elena watched them vaguely, her vision a little funny from the wine she had consumed. Bull and Dorian, despite their wildly different looks and statures, fit together in a way she envied. They were almost always on the same page and frequently found themselves having fun together, not in spite of one another.

It was different from what she saw at home with her parents, who argued more than not and spent most of their days blaming the other for anything they could imagine. If the flowers didn’t grow as large in the gardens, Father blames Mother for not tending them as well. If Mother didn’t throw as many parties as she wanted through the social season, she blamed Father for being stingy and miserly.

It went on constantly, and was a large part of the reason Elena had left home. It never came to blows, like it did in other noble households but it was enough to make her and her siblings uncomfortable.

As soon as they could, each of Elena’s older siblings had flown the coop, and now she only saw them at special occasions. She boasted an older brother and a younger sister, each of them married and living out their own version of their parent’s lives. They lived and breathed expansion of the family and every moment was spent desperately not thinking about how unhappy they were a home.

Elena shuddered and pushed the thought from her head. She focused in again on the scene in front of her, of her happy friends and the fact that maybe she didn’t have to end up like generations before her.

Her thoughts drifted lazily to Cullen as Dorian and Bull began another story, entertaining the others who had joined their drinking circle. She was acutely aware that even though her cheeks were already pink from drinking, they grew warmer when she thought of the prince. She glanced around a was grateful to see that most people had gone to sleep, and only a few people were left. This meant that no one was paying her any special attention and she was free to let her mind wander.

She had tried to forget that he had left her to the night alone, even after causing such intense feelings between them. She lifted her legs up to her seat and let the shows fall from her feet so she could sit atop them comfortably.

Had she been wrong to not agree to his proposal? She sighed inwardly and settled further back into her seat mulling over the issue again. She had briefly touched on it several times earlier in the night, but had always come to the same conclusion. She wished desperately that Cullen had asked her in person, instead of sending Josephine.

At this point she would even rather have had a letter than Josephine coming to her.

Dorian roused her from her musings, “Elena.”

She looked at him, “Hm?”

“It’s rather late, no?” He lifted his wine glass and waved it at the mostly empty ballroom.

Bull leaned forward and placed one large hand on her knee, “We should all be getting some rest before tomorrow.” He smiled wide, “Especially me.”

Elena stood from her chair and stretched, smiling at her companions and those left from their circle of drinking companions, “Make sure you win for me.”

Dorian scoffed loudly, “Hah! He will be too busy winning for me, I am afraid.”

Bull pulled Dorian closed and planted a large kiss on his lips before lifting one fist into the air, “Of course I will be winning.”

Dorian scowled, but his eyes were sparkling when he responded, “You large oaf. You need to go to bed.”

Dorian pulled Bull towards the door and Elena excused herself from the remaining party goers, following behind the couple with her shoes swinging from one hand. Bull was still holding Dorian close, painting the perfect portrait of a comfortable couple.

She examined them silently as they crossed the ballroom, the stage empty of the orchestra and only the lightest strains of conversations still left in the air. The alcohol still in her system made stepping feel like floating and her vision hazy, but she had her facilities with her enough to notice when a figure emerged from a side room and made their way towards her.

Dorian and Bull moved forward unnoticing, spurred on by exhaustion and drink. I stopped and tilted my head, waiting for the figure approaching me to lift their head and come into view. It took only a couple more steps before their head swung up and Elena met a pair of stormy golden eyes.

She stopped and was struck momentarily by the vision of Cullen storming across the hall towards her. He was still dressed in the maroon dress uniform from earlier in the night, golden tassels and red fur set on his shoulders framing his face and drawing attention to his expression.

He seemed conflicted, even from halfway across the room, his brows set low and eyes almost swimming with emotion.

Elena waited where she was, not trusting her feet to take her there. When he was finally standing in front of her, it was as if she was floating, swept away in the moment.

His hands came up to either side of her face and hauled her in close, his lips crashing against hers. The warmth of his hands spread across her cheekbones and seeped under her skin. Elena quivered under his attentions, her knees growing weak and it was as if all the inebriation flowed out of her and she was awake.

His breath was forcing itself in and out of him, ragged and heavy in the air before he pulled back.

“Elena,” he said, voice resonating and deep.

“Cullen,” she said, not sure if she should be smiling or frowning.

The tittering of nobles over her shoulder drew her back into the room and her ears flickered with embarrassment. A new surge of redness hit her cheeks, but Cullen just frowned and drew her back the way he came.

He pulled open a door hidden inside one of the tapestries and let her inside. It was a small room, clearly made just for meetings during balls and feasts appointed with two small sofas and a desk at the back.

Leading them over to one of the sofas, Cullen lit several lamps along the way so the room was washed in a warm golden light. He settled in and pulled her down next to him.

They were silent, Elena looking around the room and Cullen steepling his fingers and looking down.

He broke the silence first, his question lingering in the air, “Why did you say no?”

She sighed, looking up at the shining tin ceiling, “Cullen. You didn’t even ask me in person.”

“I…” He winced lightly, “That’s true.”

“It’s a big deal to attend the tournament _together_ ,” she pointed out.

“This is also true,” he agreed, then huffed and leaned back in his seat so he could look over at her. “I just thought…” He sighed.

“You thought?” She prompted.

“I _thought_ we had an… understanding,” he ran a hand along the back of his neck, “Then Josephine informed me that perhaps we did not…”

Elena smiled, “Josephine is very astute.”

He chuckled, “She is nothing if not that.”

Elena debated briefly. Wondering if she should just tell him how she was feeling or wait for him to do the same. Her gut told her to speak first, so she did.

“Cullen. We agreed we could be… something,” she said.

He nodded, looking weary.

“But we never determined what that something would be,” she lamely finished.

Cullen scooted closer to her and leaned lightly into her, “Right.”

Her head was still fuzzy enough that she leaned back into him, settling down deeper into the couch, “So what do you want us to be?”

Cullen wrapped an arm around her and through for a moment, “I would… like for this to go somewhere. I don’t mean to sound u-uninspired, but truly I have never felt this way before.”  

Elena leaned into him, “I do feel very comfortable around you.”

She could hear his smile, “I feel the same.”

“Do you really want to make that kind of declaration?”

He didn’t respond right away, but instead ran his hand along her shoulder, the decadent tingles firing all up across her skin and relaxing her. She settled further into his side, running her chin along the fur at his shoulders and enjoying the heightened sensations her lingering inebriation gave her.

Cullen finally spoke quietly, “I do.”

Elena leaned back, assessing his expression, “You do?”

His gold eyes met her blue and he affirmed again, “I do.”

“Then…” She sighed, “I’ll sit with you tomorrow then.”

Cullen smiled, and leaned in, kissing her once before pulling back, “Thank you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sorry for the delay! I moved and took on a new job so things have been nuts for me! However I am working on a new update schedule and hopefully we'll get back into our once a week routine. :) And as always, thank you so much for the comments and kudos! I love seeing them and replying to what you all have to say. :) If you guys have anything at all you want me to know or have questions, feel free to let me know! You can also send me a message on [tumblr](http://www.shittyurlhere.tumblr.com). :)


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning the ladies in waiting woke Elena up early, immediately aggravating a pounding head and dry mouth.

Elena groaned and rolled further into her bed, pulling up the covers and grumbling, “Go away.”

Calora clucked her tongue, “Now My Lady, the tourney is today.”

Elena snuggled down further, her head now under a pillow and an arm flung over top to keep it in place, “I know…”

Loretta jumped onto the bed, her hair bobbing about her face and becoming the embodiment of her excitement, “You’re sitting with the prince, you have to get up!”

Elena surged up from the pillows at her declaration, “Who told you?”

Loretta glanced worriedly at Calora, “Prince Cullen sent word an hour ago. We’ve spent the morning preparing your outfit, we just need to prepare you now.”

She looked up at the ceiling, asking for strength, before swinging her feet over the bed and standing. For just a moment, the world seemed to sway and spin, before settling uneasily in front of her. Elena waited to make sure the room would stay where it was before nodding at her lady-in-waiting.

The trio descended on her with fervor, pulling off her pajamas and settling on lightweight silk undergarments. A short red slip went on first, edged in delicate white lace and two garter hooks hanging from the bottom. Calletta helped her into a sheer pair of stockings and matching red and white lace panties before hooking in the stockings and then clapping her hands.

“Come on, come on,” she said, waving her hands at Loretta.

Loretta jumped a little and rushed over with the gown she was carrying, a red confection with a floating skirt and fitted top. It was a newer fashion, with a sweetheart neckline and a short bodice. It was cut so the skirt flowed out from her waist, as opposed to her hips, making her legs appear impossibly long, and when Calora had her step into soft red silk slippers, they all stepped back to admire their work.

Small pearls were dotted along the hems, shining whenever she moved or turned, and where the skirt met the bodice, a sash filled with more pearls and a smattering of crystals was tied into a bow at the back. Elena turned and ran her hands over the skirt as it billowed, admiring the soft fabric as is rippled and shined. Her ladies had outdone themselves. Other than the confining shoes, Elena couldn’t be happier. All eyes would be on Cullen and her today, and she would certainly be able to rise to the occasion.

“I’m sorry you can’t wear your feet wrapped,” Calora apologized, pointing to the slippers, “But Josephine insisted we separate you just slightly from your elven heritage. She thinks that with the seriousness of today’s event, and the stir it will cause, it’s best to make you appear… Modern, as opposed to elvish.”

Elena glanced down at the slippers and flexed her foot experimentally. Her toes felt cramped, but she could manage with this kind of shoe for the afternoon. “I’ll be ok,” she assured Calora, “What next?”

Loretta and Calletta jumped, “Hair and makeup!”

The pair moved quickly, sweeping Elena into a chair and scuttling around her. Her hair was quickly arranged on top of her head and pinned with small pearls and a diamond hairpin. They slipped on her family heirloom emerald ring, applied a light gloss to her lips and kohl to her eyes, and declared her done.

Calora glanced at the clock and jumped, “Almost time! Cullen will be collecting you in five minutes.”

The women swept around the room, putting away clothes to be cleaned and straightening up quickly before leaving Elena to face the prince alone.

She glanced at the clock, just three minutes until he would be there. Staying still was almost impossible in the face of her anticipation. She paced around her room, fussing until things looked perfect and avoiding looking at the clock.

She didn’t want to see if he was early or late, she just wanted him to arrive and end her torture waiting. After last night, and the kisses he had given her, their talk in the tiny office. He wanted this to go somewhere, and Elena was certain she wanted the same. Cullen was everything she could have wanted for herself, but she never thought she could have. It was rare among nobility to find someone as transparently decent and kind as Cullen. It was obvious that the responsibilities of his title weighed on him, but she thought that being with her was lessening the load.

He relaxed when they were together, the tension falling off of him as soon as they were in a room together and it stayed off until he left again. He gave her his whole attention willingly, and he was just Cullen then. Not a title or an uncertain future, just someone she enjoyed spending time with.

Knocking at her door drew her out of her fussing, and with one last glance in the mirror she opened the door.

Cullen was leaned up against the frame on the other side, and when she opened the door he let his hand fall as his brows went up.

“E-Elena,” he stuttered, “You look…”

He extended one hand to caress her cheek, eyes still wide and drinking her in. Elena leaned into his hand, reaching up to cover it with one of her own smaller ones. It was a brief moment of peace before something flashed behind his eyes and Cullen leaned in.

His mouth moved against hers urgently, and all at once her senses were filled with him. His presence. Elena could smell the light spice he used for cologne, the subtle musk that was all his own. His lips were soft but urgent, and his hands pressed into her side hard enough she could feel it through the fabric. He moaned lightly and leaned in more, prompting Elena to open herself to him, gasping.

Cullen took advantage of her submission and stepped forward, forcing her back into the privacy of her room and shutting the door behind him. His lips kept at hers, his tongue gently pressing at her lips until she granted him access.

Elena jumped and then sighed as his tongue explored her mouth briefly, tickling the roof of her mouth before he leaned back suddenly and looked down at her.

“I… Uh…” He blushed deeply, “I should apologize.”

Elena shook her head and scowled at him, affronted that he had stopped. She roped her hands around his neck and pulled him back down to her, kissing him fiercely. Cullen took the hint immediately, his hands ghosting down her sides and around to her bottom. How he found it under her dress, she had no idea. He used his grip to haul her up and carry her to the bed. His lips drifted down her neck as he laid her back and climbed over her.

“Cullen,” she sighed, drowning in the delicious sensations he was creating. Every touch of his hands was like sparks of magic, and she could feel the well of power within her igniting and adding to her excitement. The air between them tingled with lightning and fire the more he touched her.

Cullen nipped at the bend in her shoulder and sighed her name into her skin, breathing it like a blessing. His hands had moved from her sides inward, caressing her breasts through her dress and sending sparks under her skin and across her nipples.

It was so different from how he was with her previously, shy and reserved. It was as if the knowledge of what they were doing today, what they would be telling people had set him free. The sureness of their relationship had made Cullen bold and eager.

In a surge of bravery, Elena lifted her hips and pushed them against his own, testing his new found confidence. He groaned when she ground against him, and his lips found hers again. A sense of warmth spread over her and pooled between her legs, everything new and different when it was with Cullen. His feelings were clear whenever and wherever they touched, a sense of reverence and excitement as he uncovered what places made her sigh and which made her gasp.

“Cullen,” Elena struggled to get out, “We don’t have much time…”

Cullen sighed and glanced at the clock, “Right.”

“We could always…” she looked at the ceiling behind him and pretended like she wasn’t blushing, “Continue after the tournament.”

Cullen smiled down at her, “I think I would like that. I, er, made sure to keep my schedule clear after the games finish.”

Elena smiled wide, “Really?”

He nodded, “We can take some time to discuss… Things.”

Elena giggled, “Things?”

“Uh,” he blushed and balanced his weight on one arm so he could rub at his neck, “Yes. Things. Like this.” He leaned down and kissed her again, “and this,” he trailed kisses down her neck, “and I suppose we can discuss what we both want. Get to know one another.”

She melted into the mattress and sighed deeply, “That sounds nice.”

Cullen chuckled and kisses her short one last time before rising from the bed and helping her out.

Elena cringed as she thought of her hair, “Do I still look all right?”

“Gorgeous,” he assured her, smiling wide.

She blushed _again_ as his gaze raked over her from head to toe, assessing her and taking everything she was wearing in. His attentions made her hyper aware of the silk she had on under her dress, of the garters holding up her stockings. She desperately wanted to know what he thought of them.

But before she could even consider doing such a thing, they had the tournament to face. All eyes would be on them, again, and though she had dressed to impress, it would be a long day which tested her endurance.

At least she had The Iron Bull to root for, she thought as Cullen offered her his elbow and they left for the tournament. Cullen was already steeling himself, squaring off his shoulders and almost physically shaking off his earlier desire.

Elena attempted to do the same thing, but she wasn’t sure she had such luck. Hopefully no one at the tournament noticed her flushed cheeks. If she could manage to get through the afternoon, she was already looking forward to the evening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the filler chapter! More as soon as I can!


	11. Chapter 11

The walk to the grounds was short, a training field fifteen minutes from the castle had been converted from a normal pitch into a grand tournament. Temporary bleachers had been erected on the perimeter of the field and colorful flags lined the path up into the field proper, funneling into the bleachers. Each riser was donned with an additional array of flags with ribbons tied to the tops of the poles making rainbows off the sides of the structures. Most of the people were already seated, eyes trained on the open space in the middle, but a good number of people stopped to watch as Cullen and Elena made their way through a gap in the bleachers to step into the open arena.

Cullen whispered to her that he had to give a short speech, but she was mostly distracted by the people watching them. The general public, especially those who had not been to the ball, had never seen Cullen escorting another woman for more than a song or two. The prince was notoriously guarded with his emotions, and suddenly here he was bringing a woman to a very public event, one which held a great deal of importance among the people.

The tournament was meant to display the strength of the nation, showcasing the finest warriors from across the land and as a result everyone who could take the time to attend the event, did. One taking place during a coronation was doubly so, happening once or twice in a lifetime. Young men looking to train under a lord would take the opportunity to track one down and plead their case, young couples would make their debut by sitting next to one another, and families formed alliances by sharing boxes of seats or reserving rows near one another. Clear lines could be drawn in the space of a single afternoon.

As Cullen pulled her into the center of the arena, he was drawing a clear picture of his own. Eyes followed them everywhere and Elena could almost feel them like cold fingers down her back. She glanced at Cullen out of the corner of her eye, and took comfort in his calm visage. She knew he had to be nervous underneath it all, but his head was held high and there was a regal tilt to his chin and a glint in his eyes.

He led her gently into the middle of the arena, and then stood there. His eyes scanned the benches, watching as the last of the audience found their seats and looked down at Cullen. Almost everyone’s eyes were wide and eager, waiting to see what the prince would do. Elena kept her calm even as her eyes caught sight of the royal platform at the head of the arena. The king was already there, seated alone, and beside him was an empty throne, slightly smaller than his own and an ornate chair to the other side of the smaller throne. She knew immediately that is where she would be sat.

It took another round of deep breathing to keep her calm in the face of being so close to the current king. They had not seen one another at any of the events she had attended in the palace, largely due to the fact that he would be holed up in the cigar room negotiating with various dignitaries, and Elena kept to the gambling parlor. If they ever were in the same room, they would both have been dancing, and too absorbed in the task to be introduced.

And beyond all that, Elena was from a prominent family, but the kind himself had no reason to speak with her. She knew the king has spoken with her parents in the past, but she was never present for these talks, and until now they shared nothing other than that. Now, they shared Cullen.

She followed Cullen’s example the best she could, keeping her breathing slow and even and her head held high. Bowing under the gaze of hundreds of people would not be what broke her. If Cullen was going to declare her as their potential future queen, she would be the very image of Queenhood. She kept her eyes calm and controlled her breathing so she wouldn’t become red and flushed under their gazes. Chin held high, she let her gaze sweep over the crowd as Cullen cleared his throat and everyone fell silent.

Cullen touched a necklace she hadn’t noticed before at his throat, but she could feel the magic within it activate as he addressed the crowd. “Good afternoon,” he said, voice magically amplified by whatever spell was in the necklace, “I thank you all for gathering on this momentous day.” He turned to his father, “And I thank you father for organizing this grand tournament in my name.”

The king nodded back regally, his golden hair shifting as he did so. Elena thought she caught a glimpse of Josephine and some read haired woman speaking just behind the king’s throne, but Cullen began speaking again and drew her attention away.

“This eve we all will witness the strength of our great nation. The very intelligence, physical prowess, and cunning which has kept us safe and prosperous for generations will be on display for your review. It is my deepest wish that you find these brave men and women meet your expectations for Aravalle’s finest, and that you take joy from their efforts. Please join me in applauding them as they enter the arena.” Cullen looked to the open mouth at the end of the arena and briefly let Elena’s arm go to clap politely.

Elena followed suit, marveling still at his elegant speech, and clapping along. Cullen could stumble over his words in private, but it was obvious that he found his element when in front of a crowd. Clearly he had prepared, or the expectations of his people had soothed his nerves enough that he did not stutter or stumble once.

Streams of people clad in armor began to trail into the arena, many of them carrying large flags with the crest of their Lord’s house, or in some cases, their own house. Elena easily spotted The Iron Bull in the bunch. He was the only Qunari, and he wore no armor. His chest was on full display and he carried a flag depicting the symbol of Elena’s own family.

Tears filled her eyes as she took in the sight of her friend publically fighting for her family’s honor. Her mother would have a fit when she heard, of course, but Elena knew when she explained that the older woman would understand.

Bull was giving her influence, showing that she had allies both back home and in this country. Already she knew people had to have discovered who she was, and they would be evaluating her prospects and whether or not she was right for their prince and would be a suitable queen.

The green flag gently wafting as Bull caught her eyes and smiled wide conveyed a lot more than loyalty. It said she had friends, power, people who can and would do her bidding. And knowing Bull as she did, Elena knew he would win, only adding to the perception that she was formidable in her own right.

Cullen leaned down next to her and spoke softly in her ear, “Did you know he would do that?”

Shaking her head, she glanced over at him, “Not at all.”

“He is a good friend,” he noted, nodding as Bull made their way past them.

The giant man winked at Elena, and she knew the afternoon would go well.

Cullen led them up the arena and then under the bleachers to a set of stairs which lead them up to the royal box. He took a moment to glance at her before he pulled her up onto the platform and they stood before his father.

“Father,” Cullen said carefully, “This is Elena.”

Elena’s eyes went wide, she hadn’t been expecting this, though perhaps she should have. She swept into a curtsey that would impress even the strictest of ruler, and waited.

The king quickly relieved her, “Rise, please.”

Elena stood and smiled politely, eyeing the king wearily.

“You have chosen well, my son,” he said suddenly.

Cullen frowned, “What do you mean?”

“I know I had told you to marry before the coronation, but it appears you have found someone who truly cares for you,” the king explained.

Elena took a step back, “You… How could you know that?”

“I could tell you were nervous,” the older man said, smiling, “But you faced your fears and did remarkably well. It takes strong motivation and dedication to do such a thing.”

A blush crept over her cheeks and warmed her skin, “Thank you.”

Cullen turned to her his own golden eyes wide, “You… Er…” he glanced at his dad and then back at Elena, “Care for me?”

Elena nearly choked on her words, “Pardon?”

“I care for you,” he ventures quietly.

“Oh…” Elena looked over at the king and then back at Cullen.

The king smiled, “Do not be troubled by me, I am just an old man. Come. Sit with me so we may observe the tournament. There will be time to talk later.”

Elena was relieved to have some time to think things over, but as she and Cullen settled into their chairs, one thing was becoming clear. She did care for the prince, and she was fast on the road to loving him.

The tournament went by quickly, with so many different events her attentions were constantly held, and it was easy to forget that she would be spending time with Cullen when it was over.

Several times she caught Dorian making eyes at her, and whenever Bull stepped into the arena, she could hear his cheers from across the arena. She caught Cullen smiling more than once when the mage’s voice reached them.

Bull bested everyone in his field, as she had expecting. The Qunari was huge and well-practiced with two handed weapons. His opponents were additionally intimidated by his horns, and at least a quarter of them forfeited before the battle had begun.

By the end of his section, both Elena and Dorian were smiling hugely at each other as Bull pounded his chest and shouted his victory in Qunlat. He winked at Elena before leaving the arena, and she watched as Dorian made his own exit. She knew from unfortunate experience that the two would be unreachable for the rest of the evening.

The royal box was silent for most of the event, but Cullen had briefly explained to her before they sat that this was normal.

“It’s… Well… To show respect,” he had said, “We want the participants to know we appreciate their efforts, and that we will give them our time when it is requested. It can be a little boring at a smaller tournament, but I think today will be anything but.”

When the last event concluded, the crowd dispersed quickly, off to attend celebrations in the streets of the village, and a number of the nobles back to the castle for their own feast. The king rose when the very last people had left the risers, and the sun was beginning to set over the mountains.

“I believe,” he said, eyes twinkling, “That the two of you have plans for the evening?”

Cullen blushed, “Father. Please.”

The older man chuckled, “Suit yourself. We should all have lunch together, tomorrow.”

Elena smiled through the nerved that idea caused her, “I would be honored.”

King Stanton waved his hand, “Please, there is no need for such formalities. I have a good feeling about you, Elena. You may call me Stanton.”

She inclined her head, unsure but determined to do as he asked, “Stanton, then. I look forward to knowing you better.”

The king nodded at her and turned to leave, “And I you.”

He left the platform and a number of guards followed him, leaving the platform mostly empty save for Cullen, Elena, and their two guards.

“Er… S-shall we go?” he asked, again blushing and rubbing his neck.

Elena smiled wide, pushing aside her nervousness regarding the king, “I believe you promised me some time.”

He chuckled low, “I did.”

“Then let’s go.”

They made their way back to her rooms mostly silently, but it was as if the air was charged with energy. It felt like magic but sweeter, and seemed to spark a deep tension between the pair of them. Elena could feel something pulling within her, like a wire getting ready to snap. It made her anxious and excited, like something important was about to happen.

They had already kissed, to be certain, but kisses were exchanged among courtiers like handshakes. Kisses on the cheek, amorous kisses by a fountain, kissing the back of one another’s hand. While her kissed with Cullen were spectacular, different from anything she had had before, she was aching for something new and different.

It seemed Cullen was feeling something similar, for when they got behind the door to her suite, he was on her immediately.

“You. Did. Great. Today.” He said in-between kisses, his hands framing either side of her face and again burying fingers in her pinned up curls.

“Thank you,” she muttered, breathless.

He kisses gentled until his lips were just barely grazing hers, and Elena felt the tension in the air grow even more with the lighter contact. His breath fanned across her face gently and his hands ghosted over her sides, almost reverent.

Cullen pulled back and smiled down at her, his eyes hooded and glowing, “We should really eat first.”

Elena looked away and bit her lip, “Um. Do we have to?”

It was borderline embarrassing how little she wanted to eat at the moment. She was hungry, but it was certainly not or food. Something had slipped inside of her after their encounter that morning. Suddenly nothing was enough, no amount of contact could fill her hunger for him. She could still remember the feel of him beneath her, the gentle rocking of their hips which had been cut too short. She wanted it again, and she wanted more.

He hauled her closer and renewed their passion, his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth gently and when she gasped he took advantage. His body fell in line against hers, their chests pressing up one another has his arm circled around her waist to support her. Elena’s knees has turned to jelly and before she could comment or regain her senses, he hauled her up and settled her on the bed.

Elena watched as he climbed over her, and the sight made lust spike through her, the air thickening again. There was nothing else in the world but the two of them, no noises would find them and she knew that nothing could take them apart.

Cullen leaned down and kissed her hard, his body hovering over hers and his hands on either side of her face. Trailed of bites and licks made their way down the side of her neck, pulling moans and paints from her throat.

Elena dug her nails into his side and moaned, “Cullen…”

He smiled into her skin but his own voice was rough with want, “Elena.”

“Uh…” she tried to form words more clearly, “You should maybe take this off.” She plucked at his uniform jacket.

Immediately he complied, leaning up to pull at the buttons on the jacket and then flinging the offending garment to the foot of her bed.

He leaned down to kiss her when there was a knock at her door. “My Lord!” Someone called from the other side, “Sister Leliana insists she must see you in the library immediately.”

Cullen groaned and hung his head, his breathing still labored from their activities. He reluctantly called back, “Just a moment!”

Elena watched as he went to pull on his jacket again, leaving her lying on the large bed alone.

“I will be back shortly,” he promised her, “But Leliana… she’s… Well our spymaster.”

“You have a spymaster?” Elena asked, “I suppose… That does make sense. Even my family has one, I just hadn’t thought about it.”

Cullen nodded, “I will be back soon, please… Just wait.”

He leaned over her again, his eyes wide and pleading as he waited for her response.

Elena sighed and leaned up to kiss him once before settling back, “Go. And hurry, I’ll order dinner while you’re gone.”

“Of course,” he said, and already he was out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahhhh. So remember how I moved? Well a week ago my laptop broke on top of everything else, so please pardon the delay! However, I had a lot of fun with this chapter and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. :) Thank you all so much for all your kudos and comments, and have a great 4th of July [or just, you know, a good weekend if you're not in the US]!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> [Feylen](http://feylen.tumblr.com/) drew this for me as my [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/feylen?ty=c) reward this month! Have a Prince Cullen to lighten up your day.
> 
>  

 Cullen stormed through the castle, and no one spoke to him as he went. It was clear the prince was angry, an occurrence so unusual no one dared get in his way. One small man scurried in front of him, walking as fast as he could deeper into the castle.

They passed hall after hall until finally they rounded up a stair case, past a small library, and evened out on the platform Leliana called home. The messenger made a hasty exit, leaving Cullen to arch a brow at his father and Leliana expectantly.

“Don’t be too upset with me,” Leliana said, smiling lightly, “I know you were otherwise engaged…”

The king shared a smile with the spymaster before turning to face his son, “Cullen…”

“What?” Cullen bit out, trying to keep a reign on his annoyance with them both.

Leliana sighed, “Cullen, you know well you’re an eligible bachelor, many people would kill for the chance to dance with you, let alone marry you.”

“Yes?” Cullen prompted her, running a hand through his hair with frustration.

“There’s no easy way to say this, son,” the king reluctantly told him, “But someone sent an assassin into the palace tonight. There seems to be a price on Elena’s head.”

His heart dropped out of his chest while also managing to beat as hard as it ever had. He thought for a moment he had misheard them, perhaps he had been imagining things, but his father and Leliana’s serious expressions assured him that he heard them correctly.

Only half a second passed before he was going down the stairs and shouting behind him, “Send me a report!”

Leliana looked after him, surprised, but the king seemed to accept it.

Elena had barely ordered dinner and was just setting about pulling off her dress when Cullen burst through the door.

“Elena!” He called, looking about wildly before he caught sight of her.

She was behind the changing divider in her undergarments when he swept over and pulled her close.

“What—Cullen!” Elena almost squealed, but she didn’t pull away.

His arms convulsed around her and he buried his nose in her hair, “Just give me a moment.”

Softness washed through her, relaxing her limbs as he held her, stroking his hands through her hair and breathing her in. It was different from any other time he had held her, an undercurrent of something she couldn’t identify flying through the air as he did so.

Debating on whether or not to speak, Elena tried to determine what could have caused him such distress. It had to have been something that happened after he left, but she had no idea who he went to see or what it was about. He had seemed so relieved when he came in the door but there was no reason why he should have acted that way.

Did he think she was going to leave while he was gone?

“Cullen,” Elena called softly, “What’s wrong?”

Cullen leaned back and looked down at her, taking in what she was wearing for the first time and blushing hard.

“I-I… _Oh Maker…_ ” he said, jumping back from her and rubbing his neck, “I am _so_ sorry I didn’t realize that…”

Elena smiled, but couldn’t hold back her own flush of color, “Er. Well, yes. You did come in rather suddenly.” She leaned down to play with the hem of her slip, drawing Cullen’s eye to just exactly how short it was.

He groaned, “ _Maker.”_

Elena coughed lightly and turned her head to the side, “Do you… Well.” She took a deep breath and met his gaze, “Do you like it?”

Cullen almost choked on his words, “I-I… There are no words.”

She smiled and walked back towards him, wrapping her arms around his middle and leaning into him, “What happened?”

Elena could see something stirring in the depths of his eyes as he sorted through his words.

“There was…” He looked around and then pulled her close again, reluctant to speak.

“Cullen,” she prompted, “What’s wrong?”

He stepped back and led her over to the bed, valiantly ignoring her state of undress and settling her down on the bed. Then he started to pace in front of her, his hands clasped behind his back as his eyes checked every corner and darted here and there. It was a knee jerk reaction for the prince, he was constantly pacing when there was something to unravel or to puzzle out.

On his third turn about the room Elena shifted on the bed self-consciously. What could possibly be so difficult for him to tell her? A million scenarios ran through her head, everything from Cullen having a secret fiancé to the idea that the king was dead. Everything that popped into her head was worse than her last idea, sending her into a spiral of despair until she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Cullen…” she ventured quietly, “Please just tell me.”

He stopped pacing and came to stand in front of her, large hands resting on her shoulders and his eyes resolutely on her face as he spoke carefully, “There was an assassin found within the fortress tonight.”

Her eyes went wide, “What?”

Cullen pulled her forward so he was standing between her knees and her face was resting on his abdomen, “They were here for you, sweetheart.”

Elena jumped and was up and standing on the bed like a shot, eyes darting around the perimeter of the room. She didn’t her Cullen’s next words as a wave of magic came forward and was crackling through the air at the ready. She vaguely watched as Cullen hopped onto the bed with her and wrapped his arms around her.

Her eyes were still trained on the doors and windows, watching for movement.

“—ena!” Cullen called, sharking her a little as he did so.

Eyes finally focusing on him, she spoke softly, still on alert, “What if they sent a backup?”

Cullen frowned, “What?”

“This isn’t my first encounter with assassins,” she stated shortly, “They almost never send just one person.”

“Oh Elena,” Cullen said sadly, he pulled her close again, “Leliana is the best spymaster there is, if there is anyone else, she’ll find them. Just calm down.”

Elena shook her head, “I don’t understand, this never happens outside of Elvhenan.”

“I’m…” Cullen sighed, voice unsure, “They…” He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed again, hanging his head so it rested on her shoulder.

Elena snapped out of her state of hyper awareness, “Cullen?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but a rattling at the door dew both of their attentions. Cullen jumped from the bed and found his sword resting by the door, and Elena snarled as she pulled lightning to her fingers. Their eyes met and unspoken communication passed between them, Elena jerked her head and Cullen nodded.

They both squared up with the door and Cullen nodded his head once, twice, and then threw the door open.

On the other side was a messenger with his hand poised to knock.

Cullen raised his brow and Elena continued to stare at the man, paying no heed to her dress as she stood on the bed and watched him like a hawk. Any other time she would have been horrified to be so undressed in front of a stranger, but her heart was still pumping with adrenaline.

The messenger turned beet red and stuttered hard as he tried to relay his words, “S-s-s-sister L-Leliana wanted me t-to tell you that t-t-t-t-they caught the a-accomplice.”

Cullen nodded once, having the presence of mind to sheathe his sword. He didn’t tell Elena to calm down, just dismissed the messenger quickly and then turned back to Elena.

He crossed the room in four large steps and looked up at her. His lower vantage point gave him an excellent view of her outfit. For the first time he got a real good look at the way the red silk contrasted against her skin, the black lace edging the short slip throwing it into sharper relief. Sheer stockings lent a subtle sheen to her shapely legs as she shifted to look down at him, her eyes still blazing with alertness.

Cullen ran his hands up her sides and let them glide of the silk at her waist.

“You all right?” He asked her, watching her reaction carefully.

She tilted her head to the side, letting her hair fall over her shoulders, “Are you?”

He nodded, “You were right about there being an accomplice.”

She shrugged in response but came back to herself enough to realize she shouldn’t stand on the bed like a child. She knelt down and sat back on her heels, allowing her body time to calm down and her heart to settle back into place.

Cullen watched her move and then quickly pulled off his jacket and joined her on the bed, sitting aside her.

“I’ll have extra guards posted to your door,” he told her, “And I… Well. I understand if you want to leave after this.”

She cast him a glance from the side, “Why would I do that?”

“Leliana, er, _spoke_ with the first assassin,” he told her gently, “You were targeted because of our association.”

She frowned in response, unsure at first how to reply. She knew that some women would love to be in her position, to be close to the prince and perhaps whisper in his ear. While that wasn’t her goal, there would be many who would say she was doing just that, and an equal number of them would begrudge her for it as envy her.

“Association is it now?” She teased, clearly making light of the revelation.

“I… Er, I suppose,” Cullen fumbled, unable to understand how she was so casual about it.

His unease was obvious, and she responded in kind, “I just need some time to process this. I knew people would be upset, suspicious even. But I hadn’t considered that someone would want to kill me for this. For us. It doesn’t make sense to me. I didn’t think that I was… Forcing anyone out of your life by being here. Who could possibly be close enough to you to think they could replace me?”

Cullen shook his head, quickly sorting through people in his mind. He constantly assessed those around him, and Leliana made sure that he missed nothing. He was so sure he knew every threat and every player who was attempting to move around him. He detested the politics of his position, but the way people revolved around him, moving in and out of power and the favor of court reminded him so of chess it came easily to him.

Too much time lapsed, and in absence of a clear answer, he just sighed and leaned down on the bed, taking Elena with him. “I do not know who would gain,” he admitted, “But they may only _believe_ they would gain. Someone with a grand fantasy of maneuvering themselves to my side.”

Elena snorted at that.

He looked down at her in confusion, “You disagree?”

She smiled and placed a hand on his chest, snuggling into his side and laying her cheek on his soft under shirt. “No, I agree. It’s just outlandish to me that anyone could believe they could _maneuver_ themselves to your side.” She squeezed one hand around his side as if to prove a point, “You would see them from a mile off. You’re too clever for something like that.”

Cullen blushed at the offhand compliment, “I suppose… I would.”

Nodding with affirmation, Elena yawned, “We should sleep.”

Jumping up, Cullen disengaged himself from her arms rather suddenly, “Right. I’ll be going then.”

Jumping up herself, Elena put a hand on his shoulder, “Creators no! I want you to stay.”

Color flooded his cheeks, “What?”

Elena reeled back, she hadn’t meant to tell him that. What they had was… Good. But it was still new and subject to the rules of propriety. What would people think if he spent the night? She knew exactly what they would think, that they were sleeping together. That she was seducing him. And word would get out, nothing moved so fast as word through a soldier’s barracks. But the adrenaline was leaving her body and she was suddenly so very tired. A day out in the sun and a night full of danger and drama had worn her out. There was nothing more she wanted than to lay in her bed and sleep, preferably with a warm body next to her and as many guards outside her doors as they could spare.

“Er,” she back pedaled quickly, “You don’t have to, of course. I just, well it’s been a long day and I’m just so tired and…”

She stopped as Cullen stood and shore off his formal pants and left them in a heap on her floor. He silently climbed under the covers and looked at her expectantly.

“Surely you don’t sleep in stockings?” he teased.

Elena jumped and this time she was the one left blushing, “Of course. Right.”

She moved about her rooms quickly, removing the garter and stockings and washing up quickly before blowing out the lights and stoking the fire. When all was said and done, and she was left with no choice, she climbed into bed next to Cullen and laid there, stiff as a board.

Cullen turned on his side and looked at her, his golden eyes searching hers as he spoke quietly, “Is this all right?”

Elena nodded and moved closer to him, “Yes. Thank you, I was… Er. Scared, really. To be alone.”

He sighed deeply as sympathy washed through him, “I understand.”

Elena relaxed then, uneasiness falling away with his words. She moved until she was wrapped around his side again, and they remained that way, relaxed and legs tangling until they both fell asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

When Cullen awoke, there were several things which stood out to him about his current situation. Firstly, he was _painfully_ hard. Secondly, it was well past early morning and moving towards lunch. People would be looking for him, he and Elena needed to be getting ready for lunch with father, and if he left her rooms now, people would surely accuse him of defiling their elven visitor. Or perhaps accuse her of defiling him.

Cullen groaned and turned into Elena then, pulling her close to his chest and blocking out any thought of assassins, angry nobles, or his father. All he chose to concentrate on was Elena. How soft she was, how exceedingly luxurious her silk shift felt against his skin. About how that thin shift, and perhaps some panties, was all she was wearing.

The thoughts were rattling through his head, conflicting. It was impossible to forget about how good she looked and felt, and equally impossible to forget about the danger she was in. He would do anything for an empty mind.

A strangled groan pulled past his lips, and he tried to turn his thoughts away from the woman in his arms and the danger she was in. He pulled her closer, wrapping around her as if he could shield her from danger just by holding her. The idea that someone would try to hurt her, in his own castle, was excruciating. How could anyone think of harming her? What had she done to earn their ire?

Nothing. All she had done was spend time with him, at his request. His feelings for her, his need for her, was putting her in danger. His stupid, selfish feelings could have gotten her killed. He released her then and turned away, burning with shame and a bitter taste in his mouth. It was all his fault. If he was anyone but himself they could be together without fear, without danger. But Cullen was who he was, a prince who would rule a nation.

Elena stirred with the sudden movement, turning to follow him across the bed and pushing herself against his back.

“Wha’s the matter?” Elena asked, voice still thick with sleep. She wrapped one arm around his waist and let the other trail up and down his spine lightly.

Cullen jumped with the movement, but stayed still, “It’s almost noon.”

“Is that a bad thing?” She teased, voice light with a smile.

Cullen smiled, voice strangled still with his heavy emotions as he reminded her, “We have lunch with my father.”

The air shifted as she frowned, hands tugging at Cullen until he was facing her and she could examine his expression. His face was clearly conflicted, sad eyes and a frown pulling at his scar and making him look dour.  

“What’s wrong?”

“I…” He couldn’t force the words past the lump in his throat. Could she really tell he was that upset so easily? “You… Y-you almost…” He stopped speaking and looked away from her, cheeks coloring with shame. “You a-almost died because of me.”

Elena frowned, “I wasn’t even close to dying, Cullen. In danger of, perhaps, but I did not have a brush with Falon’Din.”

Her words did not help calm his anxiety, if anything the mention of her god of death put him more on edge. His brow dropped and he pressed his forehead against hers, “Please. Don’t… Let’s… Forget I said anything.”

Refusing to accept his want to stop talking about it, Elena pushed in closer to him, wrapping two slender arms around his waist and pressing her face into his chest. She simply held him close, listening to his heartbeat. She waited until it had calmed some, his anxiety ebbing, before she spoke.

“Cullen,” she started, voice low and serious, “I am not surprised something like this happened. It happened to me at home, and it will happen until I either die of old age or one of them succeeds.”

Cullen flinched hard at her casual mention of her death, but Elena paid it no mind.

“You cannot blame yourself for things beyond your control. This is not your fault, its whoever-ordered-the-hit-on-me’s fault.” She kept her voice calm and soothing, trying to convey the image that she could take care of herself. That this was nothing new.

“I just,” his voice broke and he cleared his throat, “I just wish to add only good things to your life. Laughter and joy and companionship. Not assassins and machinations of the wealthy.”

“Unfortunately,” she drawled, “It is what I was born into.” If it was a choice of playing The Game with or without Cullen, she wanted to do it at his side.

Cullen was silent, but the air grew thick with his emotions. She had made a misstep. Elena cursed herself, and for the first time since meeting him, was at a loss for words. She didn’t know how to comfort him or provide him peace of mind. Everything she was saying just made him feel worse, reminded him that this would not be the last time someone tried to assassinate her.

She wasn’t lying when she told him this is what she had been born into. The Game was played with a fierceness in Elvhenan that made last night’s drama appear average. Attempts had been made on her life a number of times back home, and there she hadn’t been consorting with the heir to the throne. The women and nobles who frequented the court in Arlathan alongside the royal family, as her younger sister had, would be under constant threat. Deaths had been ordered over lingering glances, let alone public declarations and engagements.

 As soon as the thought was in her mind, Elena remembered what this was all about. Why it was they had grown so close in the first place. Cullen needed a wife before the week was out, or he could not take the throne. He was under such pressure, not because his father was cruel, she was sure, but there had to be some reason.

It quickly came to mind. It was Cullen. He was the reason. He had a reputation for being careful and distant, and that was how he wanted to be seen. How could romance blossom if he was constantly wearing a mask?

It simply couldn’t. By forcing Cullen into it, the king had ensured that he would find someone, let them in and keep them close through his rule. Could she be that person? Could she really be the queen of a country foreign to her? Would they last?

She remembered the night she and Cullen had met, how she had told him she would settle for nothing less than a marriage based on love. Did they have enough time for that? If she didn’t grow to love him, would he move on?

Her feelings remained muddled save for the icy sharp terror that spiked through her at the idea of Cullen moving on.

The emotion sprung her into action.

“Cullen,” she said sternly, leaning back to look up at him.

His face was still a mask of conflict and dejection, but he nodded at her when she spoke.

“This is not anything I am not used to, truly.” Cullen’s eyes widened a little at her forceful tone, but he kept his silence, “I can handle anything they can throw at me. I am a proficient mage from a long line of mages all of whom value control and being able to fight back. No matter the enemy, I can take them. If I am to face them anyway, I would rather do so with you than without you.” She took a deep breath, “What I cannot handle is the idea that we have… Maybe a week to figure out what we’re doing here and you want to give up before we’re even halfway through.”

Cullen did stir at that, “Maker— is that? No!” He scrambled up and looked down at her in horror, “I would never!”

“Then what _was_ all that?” She asked, insistent. “It sounded an awful lot like you wanted to just…” Breakup. Leave her. Break her heart. She dismissed everything before settling on, “End things!”

Cullen frowned, “I-I didn’t. I… _Fuck._ ” He took a deep breath to calm himself before speaking very deliberately, “I hadn’t meant to sound that way. I am just so… So worried! And ashamed that this is how my people are treating you. And frankly I think I am so _in love_ with you I can’t think straight and it makes me sick to my stomach to think of my life without you and _Maker_ _save me_ it makes me just as sick to think that maybe you don’t feel the same way or don’t think I’m worth the hassle.”

It was Elena’s turn to be shocked. She laid there for a moment, looking up at Cullen, before she planted two hands on his shoulders and hauled him down to her.

“Cullen Rutherford I have never met a man more worth it than you,” she said roughly before pulling him in further for a kiss.

Everything erupted into flames as their lips met, clashing and fighting and heated. Cullen had gasped but quickly fell prey to the fire. It was all-consuming. Absorbing everything around them until nothing remained but soft lips and clever tongues. Hands grasping sides and hauling one another close. Cullen moved over her, creating more contact as he let his weight fall on top of her. Elena reveled in the dominance, in the fire.

Cullen ground his harness into her, making space between her legs so he could slide his length along her core, creating a delicious friction that set her alight. The thin silk panties she was wearing hid nothing, kept nothing from him as he pressed again against her, their small clothes so small it was almost as if they were naked.

Cullen’s hands moved down and then up and under, hands seeking out large expanses of soft supple skin. They pressed into her waist and hips, slotting into place as if they belonged there. A sense of rightness entered the blaze and it became righteous in it’s tone. Everything felt as if it belonged, as if it was right and good and divinely blessed.

Elena was drowning in it, her head full of emotion so thick she swore she would never be the same again. It would never fade and never clear, keeping her tied always to Cullen.

Cullen nipped at her shoulder and then kissed his way up her neck, murmuring nonsense which Elena paid no attention to until he was by her ear, the soft words blowing across sensitive points as his hands moved across her torso. They were moving in and around and up and then in again, just brushing against her sensitive breasts.

“Maker you’re so beautiful,” he said, voice hoarse. She could feel the stubble on his jaw just _barely_ touching her ear, “Your skin is just _so_ soft and every inch of you is delicious.” Elena shivered at that, shocked when his tongue snaked out and brushed her ear briefly, “One day I will taste every last inch of you,” more shivers, “Touch every last bit of you,” a surge of wetness, “and make you absolutely mine.” He bit her ear at the last declaration and Elena was certain she was going to fall apart only to be put back together again.

She pushed her hips up into his, whining with need. His words were a catalyst, unleashing a deep want within her that was everything she dreamed it would be. This was the passion she craved, the deep throbbing need she wanted every night, with someone she could laugh and enjoy life with every day. It was never clearer that Cullen was everything she wanted, every inch the man she needed to be happy. And she made him happy too.

That was momentous and shattering and grounding at the same time. She loved him, made him happy. He made her happy, despite his foibles. Their time together had been short but enjoyable, long nights talking about their families and their cultures, and it was everything when they were together. As long as they held each other near, they could conquer anything, she was sure of it.

“I love you, by the way,” she managed to get out in between pants and gasps.

Cullen froze and looked down at her, his golden eyes shining. Sleep had mussed his hair so gentle curls fell across his forehead and while his gaze still simmered with lust it was tempered with affection and warmth.

Then he kissed her again, gentler this time. Elena melted into it, and was infinitely grateful that he didn’t press further. She didn’t know what else she should say, could say, but kisses she could do.

Cullen lingered there for a moment before kissing her firmly and then leaning up on his forearms again, “As much as I wish to continue… We have to get ready for lunch.”

Elena blanched as she remembered. Lunch. With the king.

"Do we have to?" She asked, telling herself she wasn't whining. She pushed her hips into his again, smiling with as much seduction as she could muster.

" _Maker give me strength,"_ he said, groaning. His hips bucked to meet hers, creating more friction between them. "We have to _go."_

Elena frowned, "Fine. If we must."

Cullen kissed her fiercely one more time before standing and looking around, "What do you think it the least noticeable way out of here?"

Elena laughed, "We may be beyond that point, but you can always take the servant's stair.

Cullen nodded, gathered his things, and then left Elena alone to prepare for their lunch.

Elena flopped back on the bed, breathing deeply and thinking calming thoughts. She could get through this lunch, and then afterwards... Elena shot up in the bed. Tonight there would be more dancing, with a formal avowing of the guard. Each ranked member of the royal guard would swear their service to Cullen at the ball tonight, declaring their loyalty and dedication.

Elena had a feeling she would be sitting next to Cullen for that as well.


	14. Chapter 14

Elena got ready for lunch in a haze. Images flashed through her mind and were sorted into bins she labeled ‘Deal With Now’ and ‘Deal With Later’.  In the later bin were images of Cullen hovering over her and protecting her, as well as imagined images of an assassin hurting both her and him. They shifted alongside memories of them laughing and sitting close to one another, of playing cards and dancing through the main hall.

In her now bin were images of immediate importance: anything having to do with the King. He was a man who clearly had kindness in him, and more than a little goodwill when it came to his son. He worked hard to keep the kingdom stable, and to make it prosper. But ever kingdom had its wars, and no king could succeed without also being a warrior. He would be cunning and shrewd, watching everything with a well trained eye and wanting to make sure that his son chose his wife correctly.

Fabric slid past her shoulders and sent a tingle down her spine as she thought about the consequences of Cullen choosing wrong. It would have a negative impact on the whole continent, let alone Aravalle. They were a hardworking and proud people, if they had a problem with something, they made it known and immediately set about righting it. If they didn’t like their queen? Revolution was on the table.

And then there was the question of _marriage._ Did she want to get married? Elena was of age for it, true, but was she ready? Could she become ready in less than a week? The coronation was looming on the weekend and she had to be sure before then. Had to decide if it was time for her life to change.

Years past were spent flitting from party to part, representing her family and building bonds, all the while carefully avoiding any marriage arrangements her mother tried to force her into. What would it be like to settle in one place? To stay within the borders of one country so different from her own lush and green Elvhenan? Elena hadn’t considered it before… But it sounded lovely. Her home was filled with her own people, true, but it was also _filled_ with politics and mechanizations. More threats against her life had been made there than anywhere else. She traveled with at least one guard at all times and parties would be spent laughing but with a watchful eye on her adversaries.

In Aravalle she could be free to be with her friends, to build a family somewhere they would be safe and loved. Her stomach warmed when she thought of Cullen as a father. A king he would be always, but a _father._ He would be magnificent.

Lost in that thought, she was ready for lunch and Cullen was at the door to escort her before she could finish sorting through her bins.

She would just have to think on her feet.

Elena took his arm with shaking hand when he offered. Smiling knowingly, he covered her smaller hand with his own and leaned into her. They were moving quickly and there were too many people about for many words, but his hand was enough. He understood how she was feeling and likely was nervous himself.

He led them through the guest quarters and then into the royal tower, descending until they came back to where it all began. The hallway was shining now, the stone clean and carpets and tapestries so lush the corridor felt warm. They went down the hall and before they could enter the private dining hall, Cullen pulled her to a stop.

“Are you prepared, my dear?” He asked, eyes shining and voice soft.

She smiled, “Just a little nervous. This feels like a big deal.”

Cullen nodded, “I will admit to some nerves myself, it is a big deal.”

“Do you think he’ll like me?” She blurted out, almost against her will. Free hand coming out to cover her mouth, Elena looked mortified by her outburst.

His hands drifted up to pull her hand away and then returned to drift over her cheekbones. He took his time, thumbs sweeping over smooth skin and pointed ears until Elena was relaxed and leaning into his touch.

“He already does like you,” Cullen told her, voice low and rumbling through her chest almost like magic, “There is nothing for you to fear in there.”

She nodded mutely.

His eyes swept over he one last time to make sure she was ready to enter, and then h pulled them both into the room.

The King was seated at the head of the table, head bent to a report which he discarded when he rose to greet them.

“Cullen! Elena!” He called warmly, “Please do come in.”

Stanton waved at the chairs to either side of him and beamed at them. Before him was an enormous spread, with dished more suited to the ball to be held that evening than a family (plus one) lunch. She took in quickly that there were also elven dishes in the mix, vegetables and herbs from home scented the air alongside more traditional Southern Thedosian meals.

A servant pulled out chairs for the couple on the right side of the kind, directly in front of a set of plates which shimmered gold in the afternoon light. Cullen made sure she was seated and comfortable before taking his own seat next to his father.

“Thank you for your kind invitation,” Elena ventured once Cullen was settled himself,  
“I am sure you have other matters to attend to today.”

The king waved his hand and his voice was airy when he informed her, “When you’re stepping down from the throne as soon as I am, you tend to find you have a lot more free time all of a sudden. It’s a joy to spend some of it with my son and his new lady friend.”

Elena shifted on her seat and Cullen blushed, “Father…”

“Come come, Cullen,” Stanton admonished, “We may as well face facts, I assume you told her of our little deal?”

Cullen’s golden hair shifted with his nod, “I did.”

“Excellent! I presume you have been spending an appropriate amount of time on the subject then,” he stated.

Elena almost choked, “We— uh. What do you mean, precisely?”

Stanton reached for his wine glass, swirled it casually, and then took a drink. He seemed to not hear her question.

Cullen sighed, “Very well.” Then he shifted in his chair and looked at Elena, “He wants to know if we’ve talked about getting married.”

This time Elena did choke, coughing behind her hand she managed to get out, “I… You… We… Married?”

“That is his plan, yes,” Cullen reminded her.

The king chuckled but kept his words.

Cullen sighed long suffering and exasperated, “He wants us to talk about it _now_.”

“What? Why?!” She asked, startled.

“The coronation is soon,” Cullen reminded her, “If there is to be a wedding… Well it has to be planned in its entirety and then take place in 5 days.”

Elena paled at that less-than-gentle reminder. 5 days was _nothing._ Was it even possible to make her decision before then? “How can we…” She huffed a large breath, “How are we supposed to know?”

Cullen’s brow furrowed, “Know what?”

“If it’s a good idea!”

His mouth started working on an answer but before Cullen could respond Stanton chuckled, “This is a good question, little one.”

Cullen frowned at his father, “If you think as much, why are you in such a rush?”

“You would not find anyone otherwise,” the King stated simply, then turned his wide smile onto Elena, “He is stubborn, our Cullen. He would like women, surely, but he was so… focused on his duties he never did settle in.” Stanton sighed and then looked to the ceiling, remembering, “I remember being much the same when I first was crowned. So worried about the kingdom I forgot to worry about myself. I spent many years alone and worked to the bone. Then,” he glanced at Cullen and then Elena in turn, “I met your mother. And we had children. And my life changed for the better. The burdens of ruling were less so. The joy I found in my family is beyond compare. I want this for you.”

During his father’s speech, Cullen’s face gentled to the point of tenderness. Elena had watched the explanation mutely, eyes wide and mind still reeling. Everything she had sorted into bins was tumbling out and demanding attention. Desperately clasping after answers, her mouth opened and closed in shock. She loved him, certainly, and the idea was… appealing. But it was all so soon! The timeline was unforgiving and left little time for surety.

Stanton noticed all this and pressed his edge, “I would not have forced you if I did not think it would help you. Both of you. I’ve heard a lot of talk regarding how you are together, and I can see with my own eyes that you’re taking this seriously. Have you really not discussed the possibility at all?”

Heaving a sigh, Cullen turned back to Elena, “It appears we have more discussing to do after lunch.”

She nodded, still taken aback and fighting with her emotions. What would her answer be, if he asked her?

She pictured Cullen down on one knee and felt her cheeks heat and knees start to shake. _Creators_ it would be beautiful, and emotional, and so utterly _perfect._

The remainder of lunch was not nearly so emotional, mostly filled with small talk and ice breaker questions. Where was she from? How many siblings did she have? Elena learned that Cullen’s own siblings would be attending the festivities that evening and she would meet them then. Their arrival had been delayed due to the heavy snowfall in the surrounding area, but in the words of the King, “Mia would be dammed to the Void before she would miss any more of the festivities.”

This sent Cullen into fits of laughter, “I bet. She is all about dancing and music and having fun.”

To Elena, it was just more pressure, more people who would be affected if they weren’t right together. But could it be possible that they just were right? That no matter what it would all work out because… They were meant to be?

More impossible thoughts to add to her pile of them.

She held it together til the end of the meal, conversing politely and making sure she was pleasant. When Cullen rose to escort her back to her rooms, the King smiled kindly and they were gone and away, her hand in the crook of Cullen’s elbow and his own warm hand covering hers.

That hand pat her own soothingly, like he was calming a spooked horse, “Don’t mind my father,” he said quietly. The halls and corridors were filled with people this time of day, making it difficult to talk openly. “We’ll talk over what he said later, but don’t panic. There isn’t any pressure on you.”

“How can you say that?” She hissed out the side of her mouth, trying not to appear as outwardly outraged as she was, “It feels like there’s a mountain on my chest.”

One side of his mouth tugged down, “That would be a shame.”

“Pardon?”

“You have a very nice chest,” he remarked casually.

Again, Elena found herself doing her best impression of a fish, “I—! You!”

The prince chuckled, “My apologies, I could not resist.” He ran his freehand through his hair as they neared her rooms and then turned to her, his hands at her waist and pressing in there reassuringly. “Do not panic yourself over what my father said. We can discuss it, _together_ , after we’ve both readied for the ball.”

Elena frowned, “You’ll have time before then?”

Cullen nodded, “I will make time.” He looked into the distance over her shoulder, “I’m sure there’s something that can be rescheduled.”

Elena remained silent but watched as he mentally rearranged his day.

He glanced at her again and then bent to brush his lips over her cheek, “I _will_ make time.”

Sighing heavily and watching his departure, she tried to tell herself this was a good thing. It would give her time to sort her head, and perhaps come to a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnnd the family is coming! We all knew Mia and Co. had to come in eventual right? ;D also I remade my writing tumblr! You can follow me [here](alodia-thaliel.tumblr.com). :)


	15. Chapter 15

Cullen knocked on the door exactly half an hour before the ball was set to start. Loretta, Calletta, and Calora, had spent every moment since Elena got back from lunch primping and preening. They had curled her hair and fluffed it and teased it until curls settled all around pale shoulders and down her back. Calora swept a cool grey eyeshadow across Elena’s eyes and then smudged it underneath so no matter the expression she had sultry bedroom eyes.

It took both Loretta and Calletta to help her into her dress it had so many pieces and parts. The underclothes were, blissfully, simple. A silk ice blue shift with black lace and sheer silk stockings held up by a matching garter belt and a matching set of panties. Over that they pulled a navy blue dress which faded to black at the bottom with stark white embroidery trailing through the black with depictions of the towers of Arlathan interlaced with flowers and vines. Across the top, it was cut low with thin straps set at the shoulders, and it dipped just low enough to show off what cleavage she did have. At the waist, it was cinched in and then flowed out dramatically, folding in on its self in waves of dark against dark with beautiful almost gossamer towers and flowers. It was a bold move on her part, but she had made the decision that yes _, I am an elf, so I would be so proudly_. There was no point in hiding it.

They settled the heavy silk around her and then slipped on a pair of simple slippers which would not cramp the toes, white with sparkling clear beads at the toes. Then, all of her girls started arguing over what jewels to pair with the gown.

“Silver! Pure silver,” Calora said decisively, already reaching for the jewelry box.

Loretta squealed, _squealed,_ “No, no! We should use the sapphires! Keep with the blues.”

Calletta, ever the contrary, “Rubies, so many rubies! The ring with the diamonds and maybe some small clips for her hair.”

Calora frowned, “A little ostentatious don’t you think?”

Calletta smiled, “That’s the idea! We may as well go over the top with everything. We did the hair, and the dress and the makeup, so we may as well do the jewelry as well.”

Loretta nodded enthusiastically, “Oh she would look lovely with that ring, and the matching bracelet too!”

“Fine,” their leader sighed, “Rubies and diamonds it is.”

The two other women smiled at each other knowingly, and all three of them rushed through the boxes, assembling what they needed. Loretta slid an oval ruby surrounded by diamonds onto her right middle finger, and the family emerald onto the left. Calletta arranged several small ruby pins in the masses of blonde curls, and Calora hooked a ruby and diamond bracelet at her wrist.

The effect was _stunning._ Elena had spent ages at the courts in Arlathan and nothing seen there came close to this. The dress she had designed with her mother ages ago, but had never gotten up the courage to wear before now. It was every bit as striking and beautiful as we hoped, with volumes and folds creating a mysterious air and red sparkling unexpectedly as she moved.

It. Was. Perfect.

Now she could face the night with her head held high, sitting next to Cullen as he accepted the vows of his soldiers and his guard. When she looked in the mirror, chin tilted up just slightly, it was easy to envision herself as Queen of Aravalle. The outfit was regal, slightly intimidating, and in general commanded respect from those around her.  

Elena sighed and let her chin drop back to level. She could picture it, absolutely. But did she want it? Did he?

Then, the knock came at the door and the girls scurried away quickly down the servant’s stair at the back of the room. Calletta, ever the optimist, winked at Elena over her shoulder before she left.

As every other time he had knocked on the door, she took a deep breath before actually opening the door. And as several other times Cullen froze when the door opened and looked at Elena with wide eyes which were quickly heating.

“Ah—Hello,” he said softly.

“Evening,” she replied, stepping to the side to let him inside.

He inclined his head and stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. “I find,” he said, turning to face her with his arms crossed and head tipped down, “That I am _very_ sad we have to go to the avowing.”

Elena smiled, “You do?”

He sighed, “Maker, yes.” His arms uncrossed and he took three large steps towards her so he could wrap his arms around slim shoulders. “You look _wonderful_ ,” he paused, “and very elven.”

She responded laughing, “I figured, they are all saying it anyway, why not just embrace it so… Here we are.”

“Here we are,” he murmured, head dipped so his voice was right in her ear, low and steady.

She smiled and wrapped her arms under his and then up so her hands were between his shoulders and scratching at the fabric there gently. His shoulders drooped under the attention for a moment before his head lifted up.

“I believe,” he said dryly, “The King wishes for us to talk.”

She bit my lip and nodded, “Er. Yes. He does, about… Well…”

A small smile tugged at his lips, “Getting married.”

All her breath left in a whoosh, “Yes. That.”

Cullen frowned, “What’s the matter?”

“I just…” Elena patted his shoulders absently as she spoke, “I don’t know. I am not opposed to the idea in the least. I’m… Rather fond of you, and I like your country and I have always found your people to be hard working and generous.” She sighed, “I just wish we had more time. But then again, I’ve never got along with someone as immidately as I have with you. And you’re charming and wonderful and I… Well I’m just conflicted.”

Cullen leaned in and sighed, “I’m not.”

Jumping away from him and waving her arms, Elena looked at Cullen, trying to ascertain if he was joking. “You cannot be serious! How can you not be nervous or conflicted or, or, well. Nervous!” She finished on a shout.

Slowly, he smiled and walked towards her. His hands drifted up to her neck and he leaned in for a kiss. Everything went still around them. Elena’s heartbeat slowed and her hands drifted of their own accord to his shoulders and then around his neck, pulling him closer.

There was a groan low in his throat when he responded, one hand threading into her mass of hair to hold her to him, the other pressing into the silk at her lower back. It was blissfully perfect, a moment almost orchestrated to be as perfect as it could be. From the pressure of his lips and pelvis to the soft sighs he emitted between kisses. The pair of them saw stars behind their eyes and electricity simmering under their skin, ready to burst out and strike anyone who dare interrupt them.

“Marry me,” he murmured, “Please.”

Elena’s heart skipped a beat, “I… Cullen.”

He rested his forehead against hers, breathing harsh but his voice as sure as she had heard it, “I know.  I know it is soon and you’re scared.” His eyes popped open and met blue, “ _I’m_ scared. But I am willing to take the leap.” One of his hands moved to her cheek and gently landed there. It was sweet, and terrifying.

“Cullen,” Elena tried again, but he shook his head. He wasn’t done speaking.

“I’ve never felt more myself than when I am with you,” he admitted softly, “And every time I look at you I just… Maker, I’ve never felt surer about anything. I never thought it was possible, but it just feels right to me. I understand if you… Well, if you don’t feel the same. Ah,” he paused and screwed his eyes shut in a moment of vulnerability, “I-I know you could have anyone you wanted, you’re just so lovely and funny and kind, but I want you for myself, if you’ll have me.”

It was as if a switch flipped inside of her, the bins she had created to sort out her feelings disappeared as if by magic, and her mind started working. Had she _ever_ gotten along with a man as well as Cullen? Enjoyed time with them as much? Admired them as much or wished to help them as much? No, no, no, and no.

Could she honestly find someone more suited to her than him?

Impossibly. And she was ruining her chance with doubt and nerves.

“All right,” she replied, softly. It was so soft he almost didn’t hear her, but he was listening so hard, straining for an answered, he did.

Cullen jumped as if he wasn’t expecting anything at all, “I… What?”

“I’ll marry you.” She said, smiling.

He adopted his own smile, “You will?”

Elena nodded again for conformation.

“Well…” He laughed and swept her up into his arms, “That’s that then!”

Elena smiled down at him and leaned in for a kiss, and it felt right. Creators help her it felt like she was meant to do this, to be here in his arms, agreeing to marry him. The planets must have aligned above them and allowed such a perfect moment to be.

He swung her around a bit and then set her down gently, “One more thing.”

He rummaged around in his pocket and pulled something out, rolled it in his fingers a moment before he took her hand. He slid the ring on a dainty finger and gazed at it a moment before he tugged me to him and folded her into his arms, nose buried into her hair.

She held her hand up over his shoulder to admire the ring sparkling there. It was massive on her small fingers, but it was simple enough, a diamond set on top of platinum with smaller diamonds on the side running in rounds around the sides. It was beautiful, exquisite, and perfectly regal.  

She set her hands back on his shoulders and smiled up at the ceiling. _Married,_ to Cullen. Dorian was going to have a fit, and so was her mother and siblings. But Elena hoped they would be happy for her. Bull would be immediately exuberant, given his display at the tournament, he could help her calm down Dorian’s shock.

“I have to tell Dorian,” She muttered to herself.

Cullen leaned back, “And we have to tell my father.”

She frowned, “We have a lot of people to tell don’t we?”

“We do,” he affirmed, “But first, I think we can take a moment to celebrate first.”

She looked up and his lips met hers halfway, moving gently before he deepened the kiss, again placing his hand in her hair and slanting his head for better access. The kiss heated immediately, causing her to gasp and move up to her toes. His hands drifted to her waist where his fingertips dug in. His lips left hers to trail across her cheek and then down her neck, leaving small bites and kisses as he went. Under his ministrations Elena wiggled and sighed, her hands searching for something to anchor herself to the real world. It was so easy to slip into a dream land when he was kissing her and holding her close.

Sighing heavily, she let her hands ruffle through his hair and held him closer as he worked across her shoulder. Skin flushed, she could feel herself turning pink and warm all over. It bloomed from the inside out and left her starving for his touch and for his attentions.

“Cullen,” she called, glancing at the clock, “We should leave early so we can tell people before they see the ring.”

He lifted his head and looked down at her, and immediately she regretted her words. His golden eyes were swirling with open lust and affection which clearly said he would be taking his time, thank you kindly.

Their lips met again, and all thoughts of leaving early went out the window. They could all find out at the same time, propriety be dammed. The heat which had been building exploded when his hand wrapped around her waist and he pressed his pelvis into her stomach, his arousal pressing into her shamelessly. Elena moaned and with a lift of her dress and a small hop, her legs were around his waist and they both were grinding against one another.

His body was like warm velvet under hers, soft and yet hard in all the right places. Cullen carried them backwards towards the bed and then carefully laid her down so the back of her dress would remain pristine. Their hips pressed together harshly one last time before Cullen leaned up and then started to move south.

She moaned at the loss of his heat, but quickly was sighing as his hand reached her panties. Quickly unsnapping her garters but leaving the tights in place, he whipped off his last obstacle. The rush of cold air against her already damp sex was momentary before his mouth became all she knew.

Cullen groaned and the vibrations sent tingled all over, “Maker Elena,” he sighed.

She lifted her head and looked down at him, “W-what?”

“Nothing,” he said, smiling at her briefly before licking at her obvious wetness, “It’s just good to know I’m wanted as much as I want you.”

Her head flopped back onto the bed, her cheeks burning but secretly pleased he was pleased, “Uh-huh.”

He let one finger ghost over her to test how her hips would jump before he started placing kisses everywhere he could reach. Over her mound, down and then to the inside of her thighs, and then up again, maddeningly light over either side of her entrance, avoiding anywhere that would cause more than a pleasant tingle. It was a sensation, sure, but the more she got the mild wives of pleasure, the more she wanted something stronger, concrete. As if he read her mind, he clamped down and sucked on her clit hard and slid two fingers into her wetness and then pressed up, firmly running the tips of his fingers against her upper inner walls in a walking motion.

Elena _wailed_ if it was possible for an elf to wail. She felt herself go warm and pink to the tips of her ears and her hands flew to his hair to hold him _right there_ or Creators help her she may kill something if he stopped.

Cullen chuckled gently and then started to swirl his tongue as his fingers continued gently massaging her, Elena’s hips rolling as sensations sparked from within her. She knew it would be good when they finally got down to it, but this was beyond amazing. Her head felt light and her heart was racing but the whole world was bright and sparkling, the hair between her fingers was soft as down and everything felt so good.

Too good, and for a moment she thought she might tear apart, her eyes screwing shut and her back arching before something snapped within her and Elena cried out Cullen’s name, her hips bucking and body clenching around him.

He stayed where he was a moment, and then gently he disengaged and leaved over to her nightstand for a cloth. He wiped his mouth and then gently wiped between her legs before snapping her garters back in place and arranging her dress. It was still presentable, lucky for them both. All the while, Elena lay where she was and panted, her eyes unfocused but breathing deep and calm as she came back to herself.

Cullen chuckled when he caught the look in her eyes, “Feeling alright?”

“I am thinking,” she responded, glancing at him, “What we may be late to _a lot_ of parties if it means more of that.”

He smiled and then leaned in to kiss her briefly, “Does that mean you’re ready to go?”

She frowned, “What about—?” She gestured to his whole self.

Cullen smiled wickedly, “We are not done for the day, my dear, we are simply out of time for now.”

Elena thought she could get no redder, but she managed it in the moment she sat up and moved to arrange her hair and dress for departure. She glanced at the clock, “We still have five minutes, perfect.”

Cullen went to the door and extended his hand, “Shall we depart, my dear?”

Elena took the proffered hand, “We shall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should just change the title of this fic to 'fancy underwear and emotions'. As always, thank you for the support! :D Also, [this is a photo of the ring if you'd like. ](http://www.verragio.com/Verragio-Engagement-Rings/Couture-Engagement-Rings/COUTURE-0410MR?slide=);)

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow my writing blog on tumblr [here!](http://www.alodia-thaliel.tumblr.com)


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